Title: Investigative Reporting
Warning: Language and violence
Author's note: This is set in the ATF/AU, and I wish to thank Mog for making it up. Starts with Mary and the rest of the female characters going into the mountains for some quality 'girl time', only to find an enemy of the Seven and a subject of Mary's next investigative piece is loose and out for revenge. My character Sam is here. All the guys but Nathan and Josiah. Thanks to those that came up with the names of the Seven's horses.
Archive: Go ahead, but tell me first.
~~
Mary Travis stepped off the elevator onto the seventh floor of the Denver ATF building. She quickly wove her way through a small sea of desks into the bull pen, an area where her friends in the agency spent most of their time when not out checking leads.
Mary had met The Magnificent Seven, an aptly named group of seven ATF special agents, a few years before through her father in law, Judge Orrin Travis. The Seven were heralded far and wide in Colorado as the best team of federal agents in the West. Mary for one, didn't at all doubt it.
Mary waved and nodded at a few people along the way. She knew most of the agents on the floor at least in passing. She rounded the corner and nearly ran smack dab into someone. She began to apologize and then looked up. Soft, serene blue eyes gazed back at her. "Sorry Vin. Didn't mean to run into you."
Vin Tanner, the Seven's resident sharpshooter merely grinned. His easy Texas drawl wafted through the air. "No problem Mary. You come to see Chris?"
Mary felt her cheeks grown warm at the mention of the team's foul tempered leader. Chris Larabee, blonde, tall and in his mid thirties held a special appeal to the reporter. Each of them had lost a spouse in recent years, events from which they were both still recovering. And each held, although neither was quite ready to admit it, a long held interest in the other.
"No actually Vin I came to see Sam."
Vin nodded, grinning madly. "Right. The girls only trip Buck keeps talking about. Haven't gotten the man to shut up about losin Inez for the week. And JD's all in a huff about Casey goin."
Mary frowned. "Why? Aren't you guys all going down to Durango to do some fishing and rafting?"
"Well sure, but Buck still doesn't like the idea of being without the female element, if only for a few days."
"Where is Sam anyway? It's close to six and we have to meet Inez and Casey at the Saloon in half an hour."
Vin pointed in the direction he had come from. "I think she commandeered Ez's computer to finish her report. Damn if that girl don't type faster than Ezra even. It's something I could get right jealous of. Of course, that could also be because Sam don't indulge in Ezra's five dollar words. I figure she rightly cuts half time in her reports cause she just says cop, instead of a 'low ranking officer of the law'."
Mary smiled. "SO you all still haven't managed to wrangle her a desk yet?" Vin had started to walk away and just shrugged. "She's been here three months Vin!"
The sharpshooter called over his shoulder, "Not my fault! Take it up with the penny pinchers upstairs! Maybe you could write an editorial."
Mary spotted Sam across the bullpen, fingers scurrying across Ezra Standish's keyboard. Sam typed with her feet propped up on Ezra's desktop, leaning back in his chair with the keyboard resting on her lap. Her eyes were focused intently on the screen and a blue ball point pen was clasped between her teeth.
Team Seven had met Samantha Hunter some sixth months before while during an undercover operation. Together they had discovered a plot to assassinate the president of the United States and helped to foil it. Upon returning to Colorado, Chris had offered Sam a job with Team Seven. It had taken the stubborn woman more than three months before finally accepting Larabee's offer.
Not to say that the brass upstairs was pleased with Larabee's new addition. But considering the Seven's exemplary arrest record, they were loathe to refuse his request. Sam was an ex jewel thief with deep rooted connections to the Chicago crime family. They trusted her about as much as anyone trusted Buck with an unsuspecting woman, little to none. They had gone out of their way to make her transition difficult, including not giving her a proper work station. Sam refused to make it an issue, simply moving from desk to desk where there was an empty computer.
Now, after more than sixth months of work without rest, the boys of the Seven were being forced to take a week's vacation. Mary, having gotten to know Sam through her connection with the ATF had asked her to accompany her, Inez, and JD's girlfriend Casey on their trip into the mountains.
Ezra Standish walked back into the bullpen, stirring a cup of steaming coffee. The enigmatic southern undercover agent halted mid-stride. He lifted an eyebrow and frowned. He set the cup down on Wilmington's desk and strode over to where Sam was seated.
He cleared his throat. Sam glanced up at him. "What?" It was no secret that Sam and Ezra got along about as well as oil and water. Ezra liked everything in his life to be just so, including his desk. Sam always seemed bent on pissing him off, and most of the time she succeeded.
"I would be most grateful for you to please remove your offending appendages from the immediate vicinity of my work station." He began to pick gingerly at her jeans with his fingertips.
She blinked. "English Ez, I need English." She swatted his hand away from her pant leg.
The southerner let out a long suffering sigh. "Move you damn feet off my desk you irritating reprobate."
She smiled sweetly. "See now Ez. Had you just said that in the first place." Sam spotted Mary. "Hey Mary. Let me just print this out and we can go." Having gotten no satisfactory response, Ezra picked up Sam's legs and dropped them onto the floor.
Sam stood, tossing her long copper hair over her shoulder. Ezra immediately began whisking at several imaginary pieces of dirt. In his fervent dusting, Ezra whisked Sam's pen off the table. Buck came in and crept up behind Sam, who had bent over to retrieve her pen.
Mary had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "I can't believe you work with them every day. Doesn't it drive you mad?"
"It might, but mostly I just ignore em." Sam seemed to sense Wilmington behind her. "Touch my butt Buck and you'll lose something you care about even more than that little black book of yours," she growled. Wilmington lifted his hands innocently.
Samantha righted herself and fished her papers from the printer, stuffing them into a manila envelope. She waved them like a trophy at Mary. "Let me go drop these with Chris."
Mary followed doggedly on the younger woman's heels. Sam's long, fast, ground eating stride covered the space to Larabee's office in half the time it took Mary, although the two women were approximately the same height. Mary never would have thought than anyone could work in such close proximity with the Seven, but as of yet Sam had managed quite well, probably with only a few hundred dollars worth of Psychiatrist's bills. Despite the ribbings she often received, Sam persevered, and gave as good as she got. Mary couldn't help but to like her.
Sam wrapped gently on Chris's door. The short, gruff voice from behind it called for her to enter. "Hey Chris. I finished the Lorenzo report. Can I head out now?"
Larabee, blonde, thin and gorgeous in the rugged, cowboy sort of way looked up from the stack of papers in his hands. "You finished with everything else you need to do?" Sam nodded. "Mary here?" Sam nodded again, allowing herself a small smile that was almost instantly killed by Chris's glower.
Mary entered the office, hands clasped nervously. "Hi Chris."
"Evening Mary." The two of them just looked at each other quietly. Sam stared at the ceiling, then at the floor, than at the tiny muscle flexing in Chris's jaw. Finally she cleared her throat. Chris snapped out of his haze. "Right. Go ahead. You're coming over to the ranch tomorrow with Vin to pick out a horse right?"
"Yeah, around nine if that's okay."
Larabee shrugged. "Fine by me. The horses need to get out. You're sure you can handle a four horse in the mountains?"
The women were headed to a cabin deep in the mountains west of Boulder. They would trailer their horses and gear in as far as possible before loading up and going the rest of the way on horseback. "I can manage. I've trailered all over the California circuit when I showed down in San Juan Capistrano and Arcadia. See you tomorrow then."
Sam headed for the door. Realizing Mary wasn't behind her she went back and gave a light tug on her sleeve. Mary blushed and followed her out. The two women said goodbye to everyone. Sam called out a time to meet Tanner at his apartment the next morning. They reached the elevators and Sam leaned over, eyes twinkling. "Chicken."
Mary pursed her lips in a vain attempt to look cross. "Shut up Hunter. I don't see you dating much."
"Hey! There was that one guy..."
Mary cut her off. "Dinner with a suspect doesn't count and you know it. I'm waiting for Chris to ask me out himself. That's all."
"Then you might be waitin a long time. Larabee gets a look in his eye halfway between a deer caught in the headlights and a lovesick puppy whenever you're around. You should just ask him. It is the twenty first century after all."
"I'll ask Chris out when you ask one of them out," Mary through the challenge into the open, not really expecting a response.
"Which one?"
"JD."
"Too young, and Casey."
"Josiah."
"Too old."
"Nathan."
"Too uptight and too taken. Just because Rain lives in New York doesn't mean anything."
Mary frowned. "Buck." This suggestion didn't proffer any sort of response, just a hysterical fit of laughter. Wilmington was known far and wide as one of the founding members of the girl of the month club. Sometimes it was more like girl of the week.
She grinned. "Okay so that was a bad example. What about Vin? You get along with Vin."
"Can't deal with the long hair. And I don't know, he's so quiet." Even Sam thought that excuse was weak.
"Fine, Ezra."
This suggestion brought about another laughing fit. "Mary you said date, not blood bath. We argue about things we agree on. You want me to ask out the man who continuously calls me a loathsome curmudgeon, irritating reprobate and what was the other one? Oh yeah, contemptuous villain."
"You just have an answer for everything don't you?"
Sam shrugged. "I try. And that's only what he calls me in English. Let's just forget about the other six languages the man speaks fluently. He has yelled at me in Cantonese. Cantonese?! Who the hell speaks Cantonese?"
Mary grinned wolfishly. "Me thinks the lady doth protest too much."
"Okay, so enough about me. Working on a new story?" Sam's tone was light as she steered the conversation in another direction.
"Oh no. You got yourself into this. I'm not letting you off that easy. You have a thing for Ezra, don't you?"
Sam folded her arms across the top of Mary's sedan and replied. "I do not have a THING for Standish."
Mary opened the doors to the car and they climbed in. "Oh yes, you do."
"No I don't. Mind the fact that if I spend too much time around any one of them I start thinking about the last time I had sex. Which was far too long ago in my opinion, but I digress. But no, I definitely do not have a thing for Ezra. He's irritating and uptight and pretentious and sarcastic and ... and," Sam shook her head and held her hands up in front of her. "Ooh, sometimes I just want to throttle him."
"Right."
"Are all reporters this nosy Mary, or is it just you?"
"Most of us."
Sam shook her head and sighed. "Seriously though, are you working on a new story?"
"Can you keep a secret?" Sam nodded. "Remember Bartonelli? He ran a small internet business that made him some cash, but he got really rich selling drugs. He was arrested for drug smuggling and murder right after you moved here. He killed that exec over in Cherry Creek. The one who worked in his office."
"Yeah sure I remember him. He sold meth and coke to those kids in the suburbs. One girl OD'ed during a party. Man's as guilty as sin. So?"
"I don't think he did it."
"Excuse me? There was enough evidence to make the case twice over."
"Don't get me wrong, I still think the man is scum, but I don't think he killed those people. The evidence was too neat, too easy. I mean, they found the gun in the back of his car. And the girl didn't just OD. The drugs in her system were laced with bleach and drain cleaner, but all of Bartonelli's stuff was pure."
Sam shrugged, not convinced. "Mary, speaking from personel experience, most crooks aren't that smart. Stupid and criminal are two words that usually go together. And I say this even though I used to be a card carrying member of the profession."
"You carried cards?"
"Funny. Do you have any idea who else could have done it?"
"I'm meeting an informant tonight. Actually, I was hoping you would come with me. The meet is set for nine and I'm a little apprehensive about meeting him alone. You don't even have to get out of the car, and I'm not really expecting trouble, but I'd feel better."
Sam frowned and leveled her gaze at the reporter. "I don't suppose I have much choice considering that you're my ride."
"No, I don't suppose you do."
"You should have asked Chris."
"Oh please. I'd have half the department watching me for what really is no big deal. Don't get me wrong, I like the fact that he's careful, but not when it interferes with my work. Besides, an agent and a reporter working together is like..." Mary paused to gather her thoughts. "Well I can't think of any anecdotes at the moment, but it's bad."
Sam whistled. "Hello? I'm an agent Mary, or did you forget?"
"I didn't forget. You're just different."
"Ah, there it is; the blasé reference to my past indiscretions. Well fine then. And here's another little tradition we criminals have, you owe me for this Mary."
Mary offered her hand. Sam took it. "Agreed."
"I still say that Bartonelli's guilty. And I don't care if the evidence comes up neat and tidy, not even if it came with a bow."
"I guess we'll find out tonight then?"
"I guess we will."
--
Sam hunkered down lower in her seat. The two door sedan offered little in the way of comfort as she tried to stretch her lanky 5'8'' frame. She'd been sitting in the dark for more than twenty minutes, watching the two people talking across the street.
Mary's informant had showed up fifteen minutes after nine. Mary had been standing on the sidewalk, the dim light from a far off streetlight casting itself over her blonde hair. Not a single car or person passed. Not that Sam was surprised. It was late, and these were the slums. The only sign of life she'd seen at all in fact, was the night manager at a local service station some twelve blocks away.
The man showed up looking like an outcast from an old spy movie. He was dressed in utterly bland colors: tan suit, full length brown trench coat, and a dark brown hat pulled low over his eyes. His shoulders were hunched and his shirt collar pulled up around his neck. He walked nervously, shooting glances in every direction as he strode toward the reporter. In his efforts to blend in, the man made himself completely conspicuous.
The informant shied away from the tiny circle of light provided by the street lamp. Eventually Mary went to him, stopping in the shadows of a small alley between two buildings. Sam watched them intently for a couple minutes before returning her attention to her position in her seat.
Sam wasn't sure how much later, probably no longer than five or six minutes, the hairs on the back of her neck began to rise. The air in the car seemed to chill. Sam had had these sorts of premonitions since she was very young, and the little whining voice yelling inside her head had saved her more times than she wanted to admit. Like the time she had stopped at a green light, aggravating the drivers behind her and narrowly missing a truck as it ran the red light. Suffice it to say, when the little voice called, Sam listened.
She sat bolt upright in the chair and began to scan the street with her eyes. A movement a few blocks down the street drew her attention. A black car pulled slowly onto the street and made its way toward Mary and her informant. Its lights were off. As it drew nearer, it began to pick up steam.
Sam swore loudly and fumbled with the door handle. Neither Mary nor the concealed man seemed to notice the oncoming car. Sam half jumped, half tripped out of the passenger side. The black car was speeding now, and was less than a block away. "Mary!!"
Sam pulled her pistol from its holster and ran toward Mary. "Mary get down! Mary!" She wasn't sure if the older woman had heard her, but the car was upon them. A black muzzle protruded from a small crack in the window. Sam counted six muzzle flashes. The car whipped by her and she fired at it. It screamed around the next corner and disappeared.
Sam sprinted to the place she had last seen Mary. The blonde woman was hunched over on the ground. The man in the trench coat was gone. Sam let out a relieved sigh when she saw Mary stir. Wide eyed and breathless, she stared up at Sam. "Believe me now?"
"I think your theory has definite possibilities."
"How did you know?"
Sam smiled wryly as she pulled her to her feet. "A little voice told me. Can we go now?"
"Absolutely."
End Chapter 1
I realize this is a little short, but it seemed like a good place to leave you hanging. Next chapter: more perspectives from the female characters on the boys, and a demon from Chris's past comes back. Hope you like it so far.
Warning: Language and violence
Author's note: This is set in the ATF/AU, and I wish to thank Mog for making it up. Starts with Mary and the rest of the female characters going into the mountains for some quality 'girl time', only to find an enemy of the Seven and a subject of Mary's next investigative piece is loose and out for revenge. My character Sam is here. All the guys but Nathan and Josiah. Thanks to those that came up with the names of the Seven's horses.
Archive: Go ahead, but tell me first.
~~
Mary Travis stepped off the elevator onto the seventh floor of the Denver ATF building. She quickly wove her way through a small sea of desks into the bull pen, an area where her friends in the agency spent most of their time when not out checking leads.
Mary had met The Magnificent Seven, an aptly named group of seven ATF special agents, a few years before through her father in law, Judge Orrin Travis. The Seven were heralded far and wide in Colorado as the best team of federal agents in the West. Mary for one, didn't at all doubt it.
Mary waved and nodded at a few people along the way. She knew most of the agents on the floor at least in passing. She rounded the corner and nearly ran smack dab into someone. She began to apologize and then looked up. Soft, serene blue eyes gazed back at her. "Sorry Vin. Didn't mean to run into you."
Vin Tanner, the Seven's resident sharpshooter merely grinned. His easy Texas drawl wafted through the air. "No problem Mary. You come to see Chris?"
Mary felt her cheeks grown warm at the mention of the team's foul tempered leader. Chris Larabee, blonde, tall and in his mid thirties held a special appeal to the reporter. Each of them had lost a spouse in recent years, events from which they were both still recovering. And each held, although neither was quite ready to admit it, a long held interest in the other.
"No actually Vin I came to see Sam."
Vin nodded, grinning madly. "Right. The girls only trip Buck keeps talking about. Haven't gotten the man to shut up about losin Inez for the week. And JD's all in a huff about Casey goin."
Mary frowned. "Why? Aren't you guys all going down to Durango to do some fishing and rafting?"
"Well sure, but Buck still doesn't like the idea of being without the female element, if only for a few days."
"Where is Sam anyway? It's close to six and we have to meet Inez and Casey at the Saloon in half an hour."
Vin pointed in the direction he had come from. "I think she commandeered Ez's computer to finish her report. Damn if that girl don't type faster than Ezra even. It's something I could get right jealous of. Of course, that could also be because Sam don't indulge in Ezra's five dollar words. I figure she rightly cuts half time in her reports cause she just says cop, instead of a 'low ranking officer of the law'."
Mary smiled. "SO you all still haven't managed to wrangle her a desk yet?" Vin had started to walk away and just shrugged. "She's been here three months Vin!"
The sharpshooter called over his shoulder, "Not my fault! Take it up with the penny pinchers upstairs! Maybe you could write an editorial."
Mary spotted Sam across the bullpen, fingers scurrying across Ezra Standish's keyboard. Sam typed with her feet propped up on Ezra's desktop, leaning back in his chair with the keyboard resting on her lap. Her eyes were focused intently on the screen and a blue ball point pen was clasped between her teeth.
Team Seven had met Samantha Hunter some sixth months before while during an undercover operation. Together they had discovered a plot to assassinate the president of the United States and helped to foil it. Upon returning to Colorado, Chris had offered Sam a job with Team Seven. It had taken the stubborn woman more than three months before finally accepting Larabee's offer.
Not to say that the brass upstairs was pleased with Larabee's new addition. But considering the Seven's exemplary arrest record, they were loathe to refuse his request. Sam was an ex jewel thief with deep rooted connections to the Chicago crime family. They trusted her about as much as anyone trusted Buck with an unsuspecting woman, little to none. They had gone out of their way to make her transition difficult, including not giving her a proper work station. Sam refused to make it an issue, simply moving from desk to desk where there was an empty computer.
Now, after more than sixth months of work without rest, the boys of the Seven were being forced to take a week's vacation. Mary, having gotten to know Sam through her connection with the ATF had asked her to accompany her, Inez, and JD's girlfriend Casey on their trip into the mountains.
Ezra Standish walked back into the bullpen, stirring a cup of steaming coffee. The enigmatic southern undercover agent halted mid-stride. He lifted an eyebrow and frowned. He set the cup down on Wilmington's desk and strode over to where Sam was seated.
He cleared his throat. Sam glanced up at him. "What?" It was no secret that Sam and Ezra got along about as well as oil and water. Ezra liked everything in his life to be just so, including his desk. Sam always seemed bent on pissing him off, and most of the time she succeeded.
"I would be most grateful for you to please remove your offending appendages from the immediate vicinity of my work station." He began to pick gingerly at her jeans with his fingertips.
She blinked. "English Ez, I need English." She swatted his hand away from her pant leg.
The southerner let out a long suffering sigh. "Move you damn feet off my desk you irritating reprobate."
She smiled sweetly. "See now Ez. Had you just said that in the first place." Sam spotted Mary. "Hey Mary. Let me just print this out and we can go." Having gotten no satisfactory response, Ezra picked up Sam's legs and dropped them onto the floor.
Sam stood, tossing her long copper hair over her shoulder. Ezra immediately began whisking at several imaginary pieces of dirt. In his fervent dusting, Ezra whisked Sam's pen off the table. Buck came in and crept up behind Sam, who had bent over to retrieve her pen.
Mary had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "I can't believe you work with them every day. Doesn't it drive you mad?"
"It might, but mostly I just ignore em." Sam seemed to sense Wilmington behind her. "Touch my butt Buck and you'll lose something you care about even more than that little black book of yours," she growled. Wilmington lifted his hands innocently.
Samantha righted herself and fished her papers from the printer, stuffing them into a manila envelope. She waved them like a trophy at Mary. "Let me go drop these with Chris."
Mary followed doggedly on the younger woman's heels. Sam's long, fast, ground eating stride covered the space to Larabee's office in half the time it took Mary, although the two women were approximately the same height. Mary never would have thought than anyone could work in such close proximity with the Seven, but as of yet Sam had managed quite well, probably with only a few hundred dollars worth of Psychiatrist's bills. Despite the ribbings she often received, Sam persevered, and gave as good as she got. Mary couldn't help but to like her.
Sam wrapped gently on Chris's door. The short, gruff voice from behind it called for her to enter. "Hey Chris. I finished the Lorenzo report. Can I head out now?"
Larabee, blonde, thin and gorgeous in the rugged, cowboy sort of way looked up from the stack of papers in his hands. "You finished with everything else you need to do?" Sam nodded. "Mary here?" Sam nodded again, allowing herself a small smile that was almost instantly killed by Chris's glower.
Mary entered the office, hands clasped nervously. "Hi Chris."
"Evening Mary." The two of them just looked at each other quietly. Sam stared at the ceiling, then at the floor, than at the tiny muscle flexing in Chris's jaw. Finally she cleared her throat. Chris snapped out of his haze. "Right. Go ahead. You're coming over to the ranch tomorrow with Vin to pick out a horse right?"
"Yeah, around nine if that's okay."
Larabee shrugged. "Fine by me. The horses need to get out. You're sure you can handle a four horse in the mountains?"
The women were headed to a cabin deep in the mountains west of Boulder. They would trailer their horses and gear in as far as possible before loading up and going the rest of the way on horseback. "I can manage. I've trailered all over the California circuit when I showed down in San Juan Capistrano and Arcadia. See you tomorrow then."
Sam headed for the door. Realizing Mary wasn't behind her she went back and gave a light tug on her sleeve. Mary blushed and followed her out. The two women said goodbye to everyone. Sam called out a time to meet Tanner at his apartment the next morning. They reached the elevators and Sam leaned over, eyes twinkling. "Chicken."
Mary pursed her lips in a vain attempt to look cross. "Shut up Hunter. I don't see you dating much."
"Hey! There was that one guy..."
Mary cut her off. "Dinner with a suspect doesn't count and you know it. I'm waiting for Chris to ask me out himself. That's all."
"Then you might be waitin a long time. Larabee gets a look in his eye halfway between a deer caught in the headlights and a lovesick puppy whenever you're around. You should just ask him. It is the twenty first century after all."
"I'll ask Chris out when you ask one of them out," Mary through the challenge into the open, not really expecting a response.
"Which one?"
"JD."
"Too young, and Casey."
"Josiah."
"Too old."
"Nathan."
"Too uptight and too taken. Just because Rain lives in New York doesn't mean anything."
Mary frowned. "Buck." This suggestion didn't proffer any sort of response, just a hysterical fit of laughter. Wilmington was known far and wide as one of the founding members of the girl of the month club. Sometimes it was more like girl of the week.
She grinned. "Okay so that was a bad example. What about Vin? You get along with Vin."
"Can't deal with the long hair. And I don't know, he's so quiet." Even Sam thought that excuse was weak.
"Fine, Ezra."
This suggestion brought about another laughing fit. "Mary you said date, not blood bath. We argue about things we agree on. You want me to ask out the man who continuously calls me a loathsome curmudgeon, irritating reprobate and what was the other one? Oh yeah, contemptuous villain."
"You just have an answer for everything don't you?"
Sam shrugged. "I try. And that's only what he calls me in English. Let's just forget about the other six languages the man speaks fluently. He has yelled at me in Cantonese. Cantonese?! Who the hell speaks Cantonese?"
Mary grinned wolfishly. "Me thinks the lady doth protest too much."
"Okay, so enough about me. Working on a new story?" Sam's tone was light as she steered the conversation in another direction.
"Oh no. You got yourself into this. I'm not letting you off that easy. You have a thing for Ezra, don't you?"
Sam folded her arms across the top of Mary's sedan and replied. "I do not have a THING for Standish."
Mary opened the doors to the car and they climbed in. "Oh yes, you do."
"No I don't. Mind the fact that if I spend too much time around any one of them I start thinking about the last time I had sex. Which was far too long ago in my opinion, but I digress. But no, I definitely do not have a thing for Ezra. He's irritating and uptight and pretentious and sarcastic and ... and," Sam shook her head and held her hands up in front of her. "Ooh, sometimes I just want to throttle him."
"Right."
"Are all reporters this nosy Mary, or is it just you?"
"Most of us."
Sam shook her head and sighed. "Seriously though, are you working on a new story?"
"Can you keep a secret?" Sam nodded. "Remember Bartonelli? He ran a small internet business that made him some cash, but he got really rich selling drugs. He was arrested for drug smuggling and murder right after you moved here. He killed that exec over in Cherry Creek. The one who worked in his office."
"Yeah sure I remember him. He sold meth and coke to those kids in the suburbs. One girl OD'ed during a party. Man's as guilty as sin. So?"
"I don't think he did it."
"Excuse me? There was enough evidence to make the case twice over."
"Don't get me wrong, I still think the man is scum, but I don't think he killed those people. The evidence was too neat, too easy. I mean, they found the gun in the back of his car. And the girl didn't just OD. The drugs in her system were laced with bleach and drain cleaner, but all of Bartonelli's stuff was pure."
Sam shrugged, not convinced. "Mary, speaking from personel experience, most crooks aren't that smart. Stupid and criminal are two words that usually go together. And I say this even though I used to be a card carrying member of the profession."
"You carried cards?"
"Funny. Do you have any idea who else could have done it?"
"I'm meeting an informant tonight. Actually, I was hoping you would come with me. The meet is set for nine and I'm a little apprehensive about meeting him alone. You don't even have to get out of the car, and I'm not really expecting trouble, but I'd feel better."
Sam frowned and leveled her gaze at the reporter. "I don't suppose I have much choice considering that you're my ride."
"No, I don't suppose you do."
"You should have asked Chris."
"Oh please. I'd have half the department watching me for what really is no big deal. Don't get me wrong, I like the fact that he's careful, but not when it interferes with my work. Besides, an agent and a reporter working together is like..." Mary paused to gather her thoughts. "Well I can't think of any anecdotes at the moment, but it's bad."
Sam whistled. "Hello? I'm an agent Mary, or did you forget?"
"I didn't forget. You're just different."
"Ah, there it is; the blasé reference to my past indiscretions. Well fine then. And here's another little tradition we criminals have, you owe me for this Mary."
Mary offered her hand. Sam took it. "Agreed."
"I still say that Bartonelli's guilty. And I don't care if the evidence comes up neat and tidy, not even if it came with a bow."
"I guess we'll find out tonight then?"
"I guess we will."
--
Sam hunkered down lower in her seat. The two door sedan offered little in the way of comfort as she tried to stretch her lanky 5'8'' frame. She'd been sitting in the dark for more than twenty minutes, watching the two people talking across the street.
Mary's informant had showed up fifteen minutes after nine. Mary had been standing on the sidewalk, the dim light from a far off streetlight casting itself over her blonde hair. Not a single car or person passed. Not that Sam was surprised. It was late, and these were the slums. The only sign of life she'd seen at all in fact, was the night manager at a local service station some twelve blocks away.
The man showed up looking like an outcast from an old spy movie. He was dressed in utterly bland colors: tan suit, full length brown trench coat, and a dark brown hat pulled low over his eyes. His shoulders were hunched and his shirt collar pulled up around his neck. He walked nervously, shooting glances in every direction as he strode toward the reporter. In his efforts to blend in, the man made himself completely conspicuous.
The informant shied away from the tiny circle of light provided by the street lamp. Eventually Mary went to him, stopping in the shadows of a small alley between two buildings. Sam watched them intently for a couple minutes before returning her attention to her position in her seat.
Sam wasn't sure how much later, probably no longer than five or six minutes, the hairs on the back of her neck began to rise. The air in the car seemed to chill. Sam had had these sorts of premonitions since she was very young, and the little whining voice yelling inside her head had saved her more times than she wanted to admit. Like the time she had stopped at a green light, aggravating the drivers behind her and narrowly missing a truck as it ran the red light. Suffice it to say, when the little voice called, Sam listened.
She sat bolt upright in the chair and began to scan the street with her eyes. A movement a few blocks down the street drew her attention. A black car pulled slowly onto the street and made its way toward Mary and her informant. Its lights were off. As it drew nearer, it began to pick up steam.
Sam swore loudly and fumbled with the door handle. Neither Mary nor the concealed man seemed to notice the oncoming car. Sam half jumped, half tripped out of the passenger side. The black car was speeding now, and was less than a block away. "Mary!!"
Sam pulled her pistol from its holster and ran toward Mary. "Mary get down! Mary!" She wasn't sure if the older woman had heard her, but the car was upon them. A black muzzle protruded from a small crack in the window. Sam counted six muzzle flashes. The car whipped by her and she fired at it. It screamed around the next corner and disappeared.
Sam sprinted to the place she had last seen Mary. The blonde woman was hunched over on the ground. The man in the trench coat was gone. Sam let out a relieved sigh when she saw Mary stir. Wide eyed and breathless, she stared up at Sam. "Believe me now?"
"I think your theory has definite possibilities."
"How did you know?"
Sam smiled wryly as she pulled her to her feet. "A little voice told me. Can we go now?"
"Absolutely."
End Chapter 1
I realize this is a little short, but it seemed like a good place to leave you hanging. Next chapter: more perspectives from the female characters on the boys, and a demon from Chris's past comes back. Hope you like it so far.