Disclaimer. I'm not profiting from anything. The characters and plot belong to their rightful owners. Please don't sue me. Thank you.
I must not forget to thank 487 carrie for being my beta. You're amazing for helping me. Never have I actually worked with a beta before so I'm excited.
So for those who have seen both white collar and mag7, you be able to see how some of these characters are similar. I basically switched the characters, because I like to think of the boys having a bad side with their rough potential to be good.
Pulling out the dull pair of scissors he had to work with, Ezra began trimming down the beard he had been growing. The mirror shard he had was barely big enough to see into, but he kept on going with urgency. The echoing sound of a door had him turn his head a little before going back to work. He used the makeshift razor he had and began cleaning up the rest of his face with only bar soap to create suds. When he finished, Ezra splashed water on his face and then ran some through his hair to slick it back. A sealed plastic bag had a clean uniform inside and he pulled it out and got dressed. The ringing of a bell told him it was time and he took a deep breath before exiting the staff only room and into the hallway. He walked through the work rooms where inmates were hammering away at machines. Some of them stole glances at him, knowing what he was up to. The guards only saw the uniform before dismissing him, not even noticing his lack of a radio, badge or belt. Keeping his eyes forward, and hoping the inmates would keep their mouths shut, Ezra made it to the other side of the long room and down the narrow hallway where the cells were located. Inmates walked in a line against the wall with guards watching their every move. All that was left was the main entrance where he would have to use a card. Digging into his pocket, he swiped a card which gave him a satisfactory buzz before the door opened. The guard posted on the other side caught the door, and slowly opened it up for him. Ezra returned the smile the man gave him before continuing his way out. Finally, outdoors, he took a deep breath and smiled.
Ezra Standish
Convicted: Bond Forgery
Suspected: Counterfeiting, Securities Fraud, Art Theft, Racketeering
Pulling the wires located under the steering wheel, he hotwired them and started the truck. He placed a cassette in the slot and pushed play. Music streamed through the vehicle as he pulled out onto the street. He found three bucks in a little compartment.
More than I had before.
He drove into the city and found a scruffy looking man selling items on the street. He found a yellow jacket. Exactly what he was looking for. It was big on him, but that wasn't the point. The man selling said it was for five dollars, but Ezra was able to get the man to give it away for his three. Next, he went to the airport and stood where the valet booth was at. The rest of the valets were wearing a similar yellow jacket which was what he was hoping for. Spotting his target, he jogged over to a man and his wife getting out of an expensive vehicle.
"Sir!" he said, waving his hand. The guy only turned around and handed him the keys and a hundred-dollar bill.
"Take good care of her, We'll be back in a month."
"Thank you, sir." Ezra took the cash and drove off with the car. The vehicle was a convertible, it's roof down. The wind blew through his hair as he grinned. Crossing the bridge, he worked his way towards his destination and to the person he hoped would still be there.
On the other side of town, detective Chris Larabee stood outside with the rest of the White Crimes unit, waiting for the safe cracker to open the safe which was just in the other room. He was beginning to grow impatient and started to pace. The person in the other room called out numbers as the pins dropped in the lock. 3-2-4.
Chris's initial relief of them having opened it drained away, and he called for them to stop before opening it. Too late. A mild explosion went off. Nothing to injure anyone, but it destroyed the evidence they had been trying to retrieve. Chris coughed as dust filled the air and his hair and clothes were covered in white.
"What happened?" asked one of the agents.
"I said wait. You didn't wait. Damnit! Ten thousand man hours to get this close to the Ghost and you blow up my evidence."
"Agent Larabee, how did you know it was gonna do that?" asked junior Agent Dunne.
"3-2-4. Look at your phones." Chris said, rolling his eyes. Several people did. "What does it spell?"
"Oh. 'FBI'." JD said, now getting it.
"Yeah, 'FBI'." Chris muttered, dusting himself off.
"So he knew we were coming."
"You think so, Copernicus?" Chris said with annoyance. He picked a fiber off of his jacket, "Somebody want to tell me what this is? Anybody?" He looked around the room of people he considered empty-headed. "Nobody knows what it is. That's just great. Look at you. How many of you went to Harvard?"
It was a rhetorical question but about half of the room raised their hands.
"Don't raise your hands. Don't." Chris shook his head, feeling sorry for himself. He noticed his agent walk into the room and he sighed in relief, "Inez, look at this. Apparently, our boy has a sense of humor."
The expression on the woman's face made Chris frown, he normally didn't see the woman look this serious. "What?"
"Ezra Standish escaped." Agent Inez said in a hushed voice.
That got Chris's attention and the two of them walked out of the bank where he had been working. Inez handed him a file.
"What's this?" he asked, opening it up.
"US Marshals are requesting your help." Inez said, trying to dust off some of the white powder from her boss's clothes and hair.
"My help?" Chris looked to his agent and frowned.
"Director Hensley asked for you personally." Inez grinned.
Chris stopped walking and turned completely to the shorter woman, "Me? Why are they asking for me?"
"It probably has to do with the fact that you are the only one who has ever caught him."
Chris Larabee
FBI
White Collar Crime Unit, NYC
Chris walked into the prison, exuding his usual charm or lack of, his irritation at the people who had let the man escape, showing on his pinched features.
"Agent Larabee. I'm Hensley, US Marshals. Thanks for coming. You were the case agent?"
Case agent? Hell if only you knew the time I spent trying to catch this man.
"I was." Chris said curtly.
"So you'll have to agree this is an unusual situation?"
"Why would Ezra run with three months left on a four-year sentence?" Chris finished the question.
"That's what we're wondering." Another man walked into the room and the marshal turned to him, "This is Warden Bryce. Agent Larabee, FBI."
"So you're the guy who dropped the ball." Chris said with a fixed glare.
"You of all people should know what Ezra Standish is capable of." Bryce said evenly.
"I know I spent three years chasing him, and you just let him walk right out the front door." Chris said accusingly.
"Gentlemen," Marshal Hensley said, trying to stop there from being fist thrown, "Might I remind you that Standish has a four-hour head start?"
Chris followed the marshal who was followed by the warden. They walked down the hall where the cells were located.
"Standish came out of the M block staff bathroom dressed as a guard. Where did he get the uniform?"
"Uniform supply company. Probably online." Marshal said.
"He used a credit card?" Chris frowned.
Bryce looked away, "He uh, used my wife's Visa."
Chris couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face.
"We're tracing the number in case he uses it again." Marshal continued.
"He won't." Chris said, knowingly. The stopped at the cell that had been Ezra's. There were the tick marks made to represent each day in the cell. Drawings from charcoal of renaissance art work. "How did he get the key cards for the gate?"
"We think he re-stripped a utility card using the record head on the cassette player." The marshal said, nodding said player.
Chris looked down at the old fashion device. "Should've just given him a CD player."
"He walked out the front door and hotwired a maintenance truck. We found in abandoned near the airport." The marshal continued. Chris looked at the books and other papers on the bed. One was on truck repair. No doubt Ezra had used it to learn how to hotwire a vehicle. "We beefed up security just in case he tried to get out by plane."
"We aren't going to catch Standish by using road blocks and wanted posters." Chris muttered. He pulled out a pamphlet that was for airport parking. It showed a picture of two guys wearing yellow baggy jackets. This was now sure that Standish didn't leave by plane. He looked down and saw a makeshift razor and scissors with a broken mirror and a piece of soap.
"He shaved his beard just before he escaped." Bryce said, noticing what Chris was interested in.
"Ezra doesn't have a beard." Chris murmured. Over the years, he knew one thing about Standish. The man cared about his looks and was always clean shaven.
They went over security videos of when Standish left his cell, every morning. Chris could hardly recognize him with the scraggly beard.
"I think the reason he did grow it out was so that we couldn't recognize him." Said the marshal.
This morning, Ezra still had his beard. Chris had them rewind all the videos until he found it. The point when Standish stopped shaving.
"I want to know everything that happened that day." Chris said. They went back to the log sheets and Chris began his search until he finally found what he was looking for.
"He had a visitor." Chris pointed to the name.
"Maureen Simpson? You know her?" asked Hensley.
"Yeah, I know her real name is Maude Standish. Also known as Ezra's mother." Chris sighed.
The three men watched the silent video feed of the visit. There was no sound, but Chris didn't have to read lips to see the distress in Ezra's body language. The woman on the other side of the glass didn't seem too happy.
"She comes by every week like clockwork." Bryce said.
Chris watched as the woman stood up and Ezra looked like he was trying to get her to sit back down.
"She come back the next week?" Chris asked.
"No, she never came back."
Ezra on the video stood up as the woman walked away, he seemed to be calling her name, but it was no use and he slumped back in his seat.
"Okay then." Chris said, knowing what he had to do, "Let's go find Maude."
Police cars parked outside of a nice apartment and waited for orders to go inside. Chris said that he would go in first and give the okay for them to follow. When he made it to the room, he saw the young man sitting against a beam on the floor, holding a bottle in his hands.
"I see that Maude has moved." Chris said, stepping a few yards away. Ezra blinked back tears and took a deep breath. "Did she leave you a message in that?"
"The bottle is the message." Ezra said glumly.
"It's been a while." Chris said, changing the subject.
"Yes. A few years, give or take."
"You carrying?" Chris asked, though he could guess the answer.
"You know I don't like guns."
"They asked me what makes a guy like you pull a boneheaded escape with three months to go."
"Guess you figured it out."
"Maude says 'so long' to you in prison, then gets busy with her disappearing act. Her trail ends here." Chris looked down at the man who still hadn't moved. "But you already knew that."
"I missed her by two days."
"Still, only took you a month and a half to escape the super-max. Damn impressive."
Ezra gave a half-hearted chuckle.
Chris pulled out his radio and gave the all clear and notified that he has been identified and is unarmed.
Ezra finally looked up, "We're surrounded?" Chris nodded, "How many?"
"Including my agents and the marshal's men, all of them I think."
Ezra nodded, looking back down at his bottle.
"So what was the message?"
"Goodbye."
Chris scoffed before giving a slight smile, "Women." He looked away from Standish, "We're going to give you another four years for this, you know."
"I don't care." Was Ezra's quick reply. From the look of things, he didn't, but Larabee wasn't one to believe the young man would just quit.
Ezra looked back over to Chris and then looked over his body before chuckling, "That's the same suit you were wearing the last time you arrested me." He stood up finally.
Chris looked down at his all black suit and black overcoat and shrugged. "Classics never go out of style."
Ezra caught something on the shoulder of the black suit and then looked to Chris, before trying to reach for it. When Chris moved back from his touch, Ezra gestured that he wasn't trying to do anything to him. He picked off a red thin fiber and looked at it.
"You know what this is, right?"
"No idea. Got it from a case I was working on before I was pulled to haul your ass in."
"You think you'll catch him?" Ezra smiled.
"Don't know yet. He's good, probably as good as you."
Ezra wasn't sure about that. Then a thought came to mind. "What's it worth if I tell you what this is?" Chris looked up at him and frowned in confusion, "Is it worth a meeting?"
"What are you going on about?"
"If I tell you what this is now, will you come see me in a week at prison?" Ezra smiled innocently, "Just a meeting."
The agents arrived on the floor and approached them.
"Okay." Chris nodded.
"This is the security fiber for the new Canadian 100-dollar bill." Ezra said, putting the red strip in Chris's hand.
The agents took Ezra away, but not before he looked back to Larabee, "One week."
Chris met up with Inez the next day. They found each other out in the lobby and they walked together towards the exit. He noticed a group of men talking in hushed tones to each other while throwing glances towards them.
"What's got the belt-and-suspender boys all riled up?"
"You." Inez smiled.
"Me? What did I do this time?"
"Standish was right. That stuff from the bank vault. Security fibers for the new Canadian 100."
Chris let out a sigh, "Well I'll be damned."
"Apparently, the formulation's still classified. The Canadian secret service are very curious to know how you figured it out."
Chris looked to the group of men still talking amongst themselves before turning away and smiling. "This should be fun."
"You may have just started an international incident." Inez said, reminding him that he shouldn't be smiling.
"How did you know?" Chris asked, standing across from the table where Ezra was sitting.
"Come, Mr. Larabee, It's what I do." Ezra grinned, "How upset were the Canadians?"
Chris chuckled, "Oh, very. I mean, as upset as a Canadian can get." He walked back over to the table, "Okay, you asked for a meeting. I'm here."
"I know why you gave him the moniker 'the Ghost'. Like the ghost ship. He disappears whenever you get close."
Chris shrugged, "How do you know anything about him?"
"You know my life. You don't think I know yours?" Ezra tilted his head, "Did you get the birthday cards?"
"Nice touch." Chris murmured.
"You've been after the Ghost almost as long as you were after me. I'll help you catch him."
"Really? Really? How does that work? You want to be prison pen pals?"
Ezra opened the little file he had brought in with him for the meeting. He was pretty impressed with the research he had done for it. He pushed it towards Chris. Under the table his leg bobbed in excitement, his prison sliders making scuffs on the tile floor. Chris got up from the far table he was sitting on and sat at across from Standish to look the papers over.
"You can get me out of here." Ezra whispered. "There's case law. Precedent. I can be released into your custody—"
"Nice. This is all very nice. But you're right, I do know you, and I know that the second you're out, you'll take off after your mother."
"Mr. Larabee, I'm not going to run." Ezra said in as honest a tone as he could do. Chris still cocked his head to the side and rose an eyebrow. "GPS tracking anklet. The new ones are tamperproof. Never been skipped on." Ezra showed him the papers.
Chris looked up from them, "There's always a first time."
Ezra saw that his plan wasn't working. "Think about it."
"Sorry, Ezra. Nice try." Chris smiled and got up from his seat, he patted the younger man on the shoulder before walking out. Ezra tried to keep himself from losing heart.
At night, he laid in bed staring at the markings of the days he had already spent there. He went to draw in another day, but instead scratched across the neat lines he had drawn previously. In his frustration, he broke the lightbulb that hung from overhead. The noise had other inmates yelling at him to be quiet. Taking a deep breath, Ezra found a clean spot and drew in a single line before resting his head against the wall. He needed to find a way out of here.
Chris sat in his dining room table, weeks later, staring at the file he was working on and the simple birthday card he had received from Standish. Sarah came into the room, in her PJs.
"You coming to bed tonight?"
"Yeah." Chris murmured.
Sarah wrapped her arms around Chris shoulders and placed her chin on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Oh, don't tell me it's Ezra Standish." She said, recognizing the birthday card. "I've been competing with him for three years."
"He'd be out today."
"You considering his offer?" Chris gave a shrug, "Of course you are, or you'd be in bed with me." Sarah smiled, "Can he help you find him?"
"Ezra's smart. You know how much I like smart." Chris said, turning towards his wife. He especially missed that at work. Only Inez seemed to be able to keep up with him, and sometimes JD.
"Is he as smart as those Ivy League Coeds they throw at you?" Sarah chuckled.
"He's almost as brilliant as the woman I married."
"Ohh, good answer." Sarah tilted her head, "So what's the problem?"
"This is not the way it's supposed to go. You get caught, you do your time. There's more to this. More to this than some need to be with his mother. A side angle he's playing."
"So you're saying he escapes a maximum-security prison, knowing fully well that you'd catch him, just so he could trick you into letting him out again?"
Chris looked to his wife who had a raised eyebrow on her questioning face.
"It's a working theory."
"Yeah, keep working on it." She chuckled, "Is it so hard for you to believe a man would do that for the mother he loves?"
"Ezra just bought himself four more years in prison. For what?" Chris knew what Ezra's mother was like. He didn't understand why the guy had this strange need for the love of a woman who repeatedly left him in the wind.
"For what?" Sarah said in surprise, "If you were Ezra, you wouldn't have run for me?"
Chris thought about it, but while he could refute it with what he knew about Maude, he decided to let Sarah have the loving approach.
The next day, Ezra walked out of the prison in his black overcoat and white shirt and gray slacks.
"Let me see it." Chris said.
Ezra pulled up his left pants leg to show a big tracking device around his ankle.
Chris sighed, "You understand how this works, correct?"
"I'm being released into the custody of the FBI under your incredible supervision. And I get the pleasure of having this thing chafe my leg. Anything I'm missing?"
"Yeah. If you run and I catch you, which you know I will because I'm 2-0, you're not back here for four years. You'll be here for good." Ezra solemnly nodded, "You'll be tempted to look for your mother. Don't."
"I told you, the bottle meant goodbye."
"Then you better leave it at that. This situation is temporary. Help me catch the Ghost, we can make it permanent." Chris said, turning to get in his car. Ezra went around to the other side.
"Where are we headed?"
"Your new home."
Chris drove them down to a shady part of the city to a hotel that had no business being even considered a motel.
"This is Ezra Standish. My office called earlier." Chris said.
The man behind the desk pulled some keys out and handed them to Ezra. "There you go, Snake Eyes."
"Thank you." Ezra said with a smile he was barely able to keep from slipping. He turned to Chris, "Can I talk to you for a second?"
They walked a few feet away where a person stood next to them who looked like he was waiting to start asking for money. Ezra moved a little further away. A banging noise made them turn to the front where the person behind the desk was trying to kill a fly with a ping pong paddle.
"Do I have to stay here?" Ezra didn't care if he sounded desperate. He felt like he'd die in a place like this in his sleep.
"Cowboy up." Chris said, rolling his eyes, "It cost seven hundred dollars a month to house you on the inside. So that's what it costs here. For the money, this is as good as it gets. You find something better, take it."
"What about clothes? If you haven't notice, I'm wearing my entire wardrobe."
"There's a thrift store at the end of the block." Chris said. Ezra looked ready to start complaining and he put his hand up, "No, don't start. No protests. This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Chris turned towards the front, "Look, it's not—oh look at her, you don't get that in prison, do you? No not at all."
Chris wasn't sure if that was a woman who was trying to sell herself, but he chose not to dig further on that. Ezra just gave the woman a quick smile when she said hello.
"Listen, your tracking anklet is set up so you can go anywhere within two miles of this place. Here's your homework." Chris handed Ezra a thick binder of papers and files. "Remember, two miles." He walked towards the exit, "I'll see you at 7am."
Ezra looked ready to follow, but stopped himself. The sound of the paddle smacking wood again made him flinch a little. Deciding he needed some fresh air and some new clothes, Ezra went to the thrift store. He tried looking for something decent, but wasn't having much luck. An older woman came in who was dressed really nice, saying she was donating some suits. Ezra put back what he was looking at and made his way casually over to see what the clothes looked like.
"Men suits?" asked the clerk.
The woman nodded. Ezra walked a little closer and smiled, "Those are fantastic." And it wasn't a lie either.
"Oh." Said the older lady as she turned to him, "They belong to my late husband, Jacob. He really did have great taste in clothes."
"May I?" Ezra asked as he picked up the suit jacket, "Thank you." He looked at the label and then looked back at the woman, "This is a Devore."
"Yes. He won it from Guy himself."
"Won it?"
"He beat him at a backdoor draw."
Ezra grinned, "Wait, your husband played poker with Guy Royal?"
"Certainly did. So did I. The guys would even let me sit in once in a while on a hand."
Ezra listened to her as he pulled off his jacket and tried on the Devore and then the fedora that came with it.
"I'm glad to see you appreciate these. I was hoping someone would. I've got a whole closet full of them."
"A whole closet?"
"Yes. Well actually, it's a guest room, but I haven't used it for anything except storage for years."
She smiled when she saw how well the jacket fit him, "He used to wear that when we went dancing. When things and the neighbor was nicer. Times are different now."
"Do you live nearby?" Ezra asked, coming up with an idea.
"Not far."
The next day Chris came into the one-star motel to look for Standish. He went to the front desk where the guy from the day before sat struggling with a rubics cube.
"I'm here for Standish. Room 7."
The man paused as if trying to remember something, "Oh yeah, yeah. Old Snake Eyes." He reached behind him and pulled a piece a paper out and handed it to Chris. "A nice guy. Left you this."
Chris opened the folded piece of paper and saw an address on it.
Dear Chris,
I have moved 1.6 miles
87 Riverside Ave
XOXO
Ezra
Chris sighed, already he was having to deal with Standish going off and running around. He drove to the address and had to keep himself from looking too amazed. "You've got to be kidding me."
The house was on the corner and was three stories. Expensive to say the least. Ringing the doorbell, he waited and was surprised to see a maid answer the door. He asked if he was mistaken to believe a 'Ezra Standish' was here.
"You must be Chris." Said the older lady, petting her dog as she walked towards him.
"Yes, I'm looking for Ezra Standish."
"He's upstairs." She smiled.
Chris walked onto the roof of the house which was set up with some greenery, a table and chairs with breakfast and coffee on the table. The view overlooked the heart of the city. At the table, Ezra sat with a newspaper in silk PJs and robe and a pair of slippers. He lowered the paper to see Chris.
"You're early. I myself have grown used to being up at this time because of prison. Normally I'd still be in bed otherwise."
"We're checking a lead at the airport. We got a hit out on Snow White."
"Snow White. A phrase you decoded from a suspected Ghost communique to Barcelona." Ezra nodded and gestured for Chris to have a seat.
"You moved."
"It's nicer than the other place, don't you agree?"
"Yeah I don't remember the other place having a view."
"I went to the thrift store as you suggested. I just so happened to have met Nettie—"
"Lady with a dog. We met."
"Was donating her late husband's clothes. We hit it off. She had an extra guest room." Chris grumbled to himself. "You said if I found a nicer place for the same price, I should take it."
"I did say that." Chris sighed, "All this for seven hundred?"
"Yep." Ezra nodded, "But of course I'm helping out around the place."
"Oh sure. Feed the dog."
"Yeah, wash the Jag. Watch her niece from time to time."
"She's got you babysitting?" Chris smirked.
A young woman barely out of college walked pass Chris in overalls that had splashes of paint on them. Her hair was in a neat ponytail that reached midway down her back. Chris was confused. This was the niece?
"Morning Ezra." Said the girl, before taking a seat on a lawn chair.
"Niece?" asked Chris, just needing to clarify.
"Casey's an art student."
"Unbelievable." Chris shook his head, "Go get dressed."
While Ezra went off to do just that, Chris decided to help himself to some coffee and food.
The older lady came up with her puppy pulling on the leash in front of her.
"Hey Nettie." Casey greeted as she drank her coffee.
"Good morning, Casey." Nettie said before handing the leash over to her niece. Nettie sat down at the table with Chris. He drank the expresso and marveled at the taste.
"It's perfect," he smirked, "even the freaking coffee is perfect." Nettie just laughed. "It's not jewelry on his ankle, you know. He's a felon."
"So was my late husband." Nettie smiled.
Chris went bac downstairs to wait for Ezra and the sight he was welcomed with as the younger man walked down the steps made him want to roll his eyes.
Ezra showed off his suit and even rolled his fedora over his hand before it landed perfectly on his head. His smile was wide, waiting for the compliments.
Chris shook his head and frowned, "You look like a cartoon."
Ezra looked at him as if the other man was serious or just ignorant of good taste. "This is classic Rat Pack. This is a Devore."
"Oh, sorry, Dino." Chris snorted. He frowned again when Ezra took off his hat and flipped it again before placing it on his head. He pointed a finger at Chris, striking his pose that he did in the mirror before coming down. "Would you stop with the hat? Come on. Let's go."
Ezra suddenly became serious, "You're upset." He took off his hat again when Chris looked back at him. He lowered his head with a smile, "Sour grapes."
Chris walked back over to him, "What was that?"
"Look, you tell me which rule I broke, and I will thumb it back to prison myself."
"For starters." Chris jammed a finger in Ezra's face. Ezra only gripped his hat more tightly and Chris had to start again, "I work hard. I do my job well, and I don't have a 10-million-dollar view of Manhattan that I share with a 22-year-old art student while we sip espresso."
"Why not?"
"Why not? Because I'm not supposed to. The amount of work I do equals certain things in the real world. Not cappuccino in the clouds."
"Look, I will find out where Nettie buys her coffee if it's that important—"
"It's not about the coffee." Chris spat.
"I think it is."
"Well it's not."
Ezra cocked his head a little and raised an eyebrow. Chris decided to take a couple of deep breaths before reflecting, "This is what gets you into trouble. This is the start of those something-for-nothing schemes that lead to the frauds that got you locked up."
Ezra looked away in thought, "I think it's some sort of Italian roast." Still talking about the coffee.
"Get in the car." Chris ordered, pointing to the door.
"Okay." Ezra dipped his head a little as he walked pass the older man. Chris following a few steps behind.
They drove out to the airport to meet Inez who was waiting for them. The PA spoke over head as they saw a Mexican woman with long dark hair flowing down her back. Her pantsuit fitting the form of her body. She walked with confidence towards them, carrying a file in her hand.
"Who's that?" Ezra asked with interest.
"That's Inez. Inez is my probie."
"Probie?" Ezra scrunched his nose at the word.
"Probationary agent." Chris explained further, "She does everything I don't. She's very good at her job, and she can do way better than you." Chris whispered the last part as they finally reached the other agent. "Hey."
"Hey." Inez smiled at Chris before turning to Ezra. "You must be Ezra Standish." Ezra nodded with a wide smile. "Nice hat."
That made Ezra smile wider, revealing teeth. He gave a little 'mm' as he nodded, his eyes never leaving her. Chris just sighed.
"What have we got?"
Inez handed over the file she brought with her, "His name is Hank Fletcher. Customs flagged him coming from Spain in response to our Snow White BOLO."
"Customs playing nice?" Chris asked.
"The usual chest pounding. He's in their custody, not ours."
Chris looked at the file, "Less paperwork for me. What's he carrying?"
Inez chuckled, "You're going to love this." She turned and began leading the way. Chris followed and Ezra sauntered after them.
The case, Chris opened contained only hardback covers of the same book.
Chris read the title that was in Spanish. There were three more bags containing the same books. Ezra was looking at one behind him while Inez stood on the other side of the table.
"Snow White and Her Seven Little Men." Ezra translated.
"This is what triggered our alert?" Chris frowned. "What do we know about this guy?"
"Says he's a rare-book dealer." Inez snorted.
"Anything wrong with his paperwork?"
"Nope. He brought in the same books and the same quantity on three previous trips, he declared them each time."
Chris tried fanning out the pages, thinking something might be inside, but there wasn't. Ezra sniffed the book he was holding and flipped it open.
"Alright, Dino. Are we wasting our time?" Chris asked, still looking at the books. The crude images were really meant for children.
"They're not limited runs or special editions. Can't be worth much." Ezra looked up from what he was doing.
"So why go to all the trouble of flying them in?"
"Good question." Ezra murmured.
"He sure is nervous for having all the right paperwork." Inez reflected.
"I wanna talk to him." Chris said, looking up from his book and to the other agent.
"I'll set it up." Inez said before grabbing her file, "Hey boss, I'm grabbing myself some coffee. You want some?"
"Yeah. Anything but decaf."
Ezra turned around to the retreating woman, "Inez, I'll take mine straight." He said, leaning against the table.
"Ezra, the coffee shop's outside." Inez said, pointing her head in the direction before throwing a fake smile at him and leaving.
Chris smiled as he heard the interaction, knowing the end before it happened. Ezra turned back to Chris, still smiling. He looked back down at his book.
"You are way out of your league." Chris told him.
"Oh, harmless flirting. It's like a dance." Ezra said innocently. Chris couldn't help think of Buck as he said that.
"No, there is no dance. You're not even on her dance card." Ezra looked up at Chris who still hadn't turned around to look at him, "No dancing for you."
Ezra frowned a little, "Um, she digs the hat."
"Um, she'd rather be wearing the hat." Chris said, finally turning around and walked pass Ezra.
Ezra thought about what that could mean until it suddenly clicked, "Oh."
Chris walked into the room where the man in question was sitting with his legs crossed and a hand to his mouth. The other hand was busy running up and down his leg.
"Chris Larabee, FBI."
"FBI? Theyr'e really kicking it up a notch." The man said, trying to stay calm.
"So you're a book dealer?" Chris asked.
"Yes. Well, as I have told everyone else here, repeatedly," he pulled out his wallet and presented Chris with a card, "my business is the import and sale of rare books."
"How rare can they be? You've got 600 of them?" Chris rose an eyebrow.
"Would you like me to go with crime lab? Help you dust for fingerprints." The man said jokingly.
"I get." Chris smiled, but it wasn't really friendly, "Because I'm telling you how to do your job. So Snow White in Spanish?"
The man shrugged, "Snow White was not created by Disney, detective. There are a few stories that predate Steamboat Willie."
"I'm a federal agent." Chris corrected, "And you mean folklore of the virginally pure queen, like Alexander Pushkin's Tale of the White Princess and the Seven Knights? Is that what you mean?" Chris sat down on the table beside the surprised man. Often times people did underestimate his knowledge. "What are the books for?"
Before the man had any opportunity to answer, the door opened and a man in a suit with a briefcase came in.
Chris frowned, the question, what this guy was doing here evident on his face.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk to my client. Constitution and all."
Chris cursed under his breath and was forced to leave the room.
"Were you chasing the ambulance or they give you a ride? Huh? You must've thumbed it." Chris growled as he pulled the door open.
Outside he saw Ezra watching Inez who was standing close to another woman talking and laughing at some unheard joke. Inez touched the woman's arm and Ezra was now positive what was going on. He turned when he heard Chris approaching.
"No dance, huh?"
"Not for you." Chris repeated.
"Thought the FBI had some kind of policy."
"That would be the military. We don't ask. We don't care." He looked over Ezra towards Inez, "Where's the customs inspector?"
Inez walked back over to the two and pointed behind them. "Ezra was right, the books aren't worth much." Ezra found himself taking the win on that, even if there would be no dancing. "You can pick them up for a few dollars on eBay."
Ezra smiled at her and Inez only rose and eyebrow and pursed her lips.
"Hey, why didn't you tell me the guy lawyered up?" came Chris's irritated voice as he talked to the inspector. "The second he makes that call, I can't talk to him."
"He didn't call anybody." The inspector frowned.
"Then how did his lawyer know that-?" then something clicked and Chris ran back to the room. The others followed him. Chris barged into the room he was just in with the suspect. The man was slumped in the chair with a needle sticking out of his neck. Chris cursed and walked away. The inspector called for paramedics.
"What, nobody frisked the lawyer?" Chris growled. He ran his hands through his hair.
The three of them went back to the books that the man had been bringing in.
"Got a dead book dealer, a killer lawyer, and a bunch of worthless books." Chris muttered, tossing the three books he had in his hands back into the suitcase. Ezra was leaning on the table with a ruler in his hand, using it to move the pages he was focusing on. "All right, come on. As a reformed professional counterfeiter, what is the Ghost's interest in these?" Chris asked as he paced the room.
"Published 1944 in Madrid." Ezra frowned in concentration. He noticed the paper lifted a little. "This is what he is after."
"The top sheet?"
"More than that." Ezra said as he used the ruler to remove the paper. "This is a piece of 1944 Spanish press parchment."
Chris smiled as he leaned in to watch, "That's what he wanted. Good. This is good."
"He's gonna counterfeit something originally printed on paper like that." Inez noted.
"That's what I would do." Ezra said, pulling the paper clean away.
Chris picked the paper up and unfolded it. "Hank made three prior shipments with these."
"Two blank pages per book is 600 sheets." Ezra rose his eyebrows.
"Too many for paintings, not enough for currency." Chris grinned, "I'll bet our dead book dealer knew. Inez, where's that wallet?"
"It's right here." Inez handed him the wallet.
Chris pulled out a piece of paper from the wallet and tossed it on the table. "This is where he went before he left for Spain.
They went to the national archive in the city asked for assistance.
"He came by several months ago, and then again last week. This is what he came to see." Said the man as he came back to Chris and Ezra with said item.
The shorter man carefully placed the parchment on the table. His protection gloves handled the paper almost reverently. "The Spanish Victory Bond."
Ezra and Chris looked at one another before moving closer to the paper.
"He took several photographs of it. Said he was gonna write a book. It's a shame he's dead." The man said, stepping aside. "This bond does have a fascinating history."
"It's a Goya." Ezra frowned in observation.
"Yes. Beautiful, isn't it?" the man nodded.
Chris pulled the parchment paper they got from the Spanish book and placed it over the bond.
"Oh, look at that. A perfect fit." Chris smirked, "You're starting to earn your 700 a month."
Ezra picked up the bond to get a closer look, "You said it had a fascinating history.
"Quite. It was issued during the war." The man said with a smile.
"1944."
"Yes, Yea. The US issued it to support the Spanish underground in their battle against the Axis. Very few have ever been redeemed. There's speculation that entire boxes were captured. Many are still hidden away in the caves of Alltamira"
Ezra wasn't listening to the man anymore. Running his gloves over the paper and tilted it to the sunlight.
"Whole boxes of these?" Chris asked.
"Yeah. Boy, that would be something, wouldn't it?" the man chuckled. "This is the only surviving copy."
"Except it's a forgery." Ezra looked up.
The man's utter shock almost made Chris laugh, "No. That's not possible."
"What are you talking about?" Chris finally asked.
Ezra stood back up, "It's the ink. This is iron-gall dye mixed to match period colors, but it hasn't dried yet. You can still smell the gum Arabic." He held it up for both men to smell. Chris was pretty impressed.
The man who worked at the archive shook his head, "No, this has been here since 1952."
"It's been here less than a week." Ezra corrected.
"Okay. Hank makes two trips. The first time, he takes a picture of the bond. The second trip in, he steals the original and replaces it with this copy." Chris stopped pacing in the conference room and pointed at the fake, "Can we confirm that?"
Ezra had his feet propped up on the table, listening to Chris formulate his train of thought.
"The timed ink identification test puts the age of the bond at approximately six days, which coincides with Hank's visit." JD answered.
"We're pulling surveillance video to back it up." Inez said next to Chris.
"Good. So the question is, why go to the trouble of making a nice forgery on the right kind of paper jus to stick it back in the archives?"
"Is the bond still negotiable?" Ezra asked.
"It's a zero option. It never expires." Chris pushed himself away from the table to begin pacing again, "What's it worth?"
"Thousand face value," JD calculated, "drawing 9 percent interest—"
"Compounded for 64 years." Inez added.
"Two hundred and forty-eight thousand dollars." Ezra said, doing the math in his head. The others looked at him, impressed.
"What he said." JD nodded.
"Quarter of a million, not chump change, and he's got 600 sheets of the stuff." Chris said, looking to Ezra.
"Hundred and fifty million, give or take."
Inez and JD smiled at each other.
"He'd be a rich man if he could pass them off. But it still doesn't tell us why he would take out the real bond and put in a forgery."
Ezra, who had been playing catch with a rubber band ball, sat up suddenly. He frowned, "I think it does. What if he claimed he found boxes of the original bonds?"
"Dragged them out of those caves in Spain." Chris caught onto his train of thought.
"Yeah. How would they be authenticated?"
"They'd be taken to the archives and compared to the original."
"Which he's already switched out with his own. So of course they're gonna match." Chris walked behind Ezra just as he tossed the rubber ball and intercepted it. "This is good. This is really good." Ezra looked offended and frowned. "All right, let's think about this."
Chris was so focused on what he was planning on next that he didn't notice that his cellphone was ringing. Inez leaned over and picked it up to check the caller ID.
"It's Sarah."
Chris indicated that he wanted to be left alone and everyone left the room. He tossed the ball back to Ezra on his way out.
"Hey. Would you believe me if I said I was pulling up tight in front of the house now?" he asked.
"You lost track of time. It happens." Sarah chuckled as she poured herself a glass of wine.
"I hope you didn't make dinner."
"Did you forget who you married? I am smarter than that." Sarah said as she made her way to the table where his plate was set next to hers. "So how's Ezra doing? Adam." she whispered to their golden retriever and signaled him to the table. The puppy climbed up on the chair and began eating his food.
"He met Inez." Chris chuckled.
"Oh, a woman who can resisted his charms. Bet that's taking some getting used to. Is he helping?"
"We're onto something here, Sarah."
"So I won't wait up."
"I'm leaving. Ten minutes, I promise. Twenty at the most."
"I know." Sarah smiled.
"Bye." Chris said with a sigh.
Sarah sat the phone down and looked to their puppy, "Chew your food. You sound like your father. The little puppy chomped down on the broccoli, making smacking noises.
"Big plans for the weekend?" Ezra asked in the car on the way to being dropped off by Chris.
"Oh, you know, I gotta fix the sink. Catch a game."
The smile that Ezra had on his face went away in confusion, "With Sarah?"
"Yeah." Chris smiled, "Yeah, she's into it. How cool is that?" Ezra nodded with a forced smile. "She likes to watch the Giants."
"Mm-hm. Even on your anniversary?" Ezra looked to Chris.
Chris cursed under his breath and put the brakes on.
"I see this stuff coming from six months out, and then I take it right in the teeth every time."
"Relax. You still have a few days." Ezra tried to reason. He wasn't going to explain the reason why he knew about Chris's anniversary and was kind of relieved that he wasn't asked.
"No. This is what happened last year. I said I'd make up for it with something special. Not just a corner booth as Donatella's," Chris flicked his middle finger at the car that honked at him. "and a romp in the sheets."
"Skip the dinner." Ezra grinned.
"Well, we've been married a decade. That doesn't cut it anymore." Chris shook his head.
"Okay, Romeo. Let's problem-solve. What she into?" Ezra asked.
"Sexually?" Chris frowned.
Ezra refrained from gagging at the thought, "Ew, no. No, existentially. What makes her feel alive?"
There was a long pause as Chris tried to think of something, he shook his head, "I'm drawing a blank."
"How could you not know?" Ezra was confused about that. "When you were chasing me, you knew me shoe size, what time I—"
"That's the job. Very different."
"Oh, so relationship isn't work?" Ezra asked incredulously.
"Oh, no, no. You don't get to lecture me on relationships. My wife didn't change her identity and flee the country to get away from me."
Ezra looked offended but didn't say anything. The car that honked behind him made Chris finally start moving again. There was a long moment when neither of them said anything.
"That was harsh. I didn't mean that." Chris said in a way of an apology.
"Yeah, you did."
Chris didn't try to lie and say he didn't.
"Did she really flee the country?" Ezra asked, forgetting the initial insult to try and gain information about Maude.
"I don't know."
"France? Did she go to France?" he kept prodding.
"I don't know." The two stopped talking, Ezra facing forward in his seat, finished talking. Chris went back to thinking about what he wanted to get his wife. "What am I gonna do?" he finally asked Ezra, turning to look at the man for help.
"No." Ezra shook his head, "No more relationship advice from this side of the car."
Chris sighed, he was tired of sighing.
"Call Dr. Phil, okay." Ezra added before getting out of the car and heading inside his home. It was dark in the house as he made his way up the stairs. He took off his hat and placed it on the end of the staircase mahogany railing as he passed by it.
A sound of a bottle opening had him stop his ascent and he paused as the sound of liquid pouring in a glass caught his attention. Going down the stairs as quietly as his designer Oxfords would allow him, he wielded an old cane and approached the area where he saw someone sitting at a table.
"I saw the best mind of my generation get run down by the drunken taxicab of absolute reality." Spoke the person in the dark. It was a man, who held a Texas accent. Ezra lowered his weapon with relief. He turned the lights on to see a familiar face and he chuckled.
"What the hell, Tanner? Sitting in the dark misquoting Ginsberg?" he made his way across the room and shook the other man's hand.
"The light's how they find you, man." Vin grinned as went back to his drink.
"Hey, you know, you can't just help yourself here. How did you get in?" Ezra said, pointing to the bottle.
"I used this." Vin lifted his fist in the air. Ezra rose an eyebrow, not believing the other man. "I knocked. I introduced myself to Nettie. She's great." He explained further. "Did you get a load of that granddaughter?"
Ezra sat down, listening to his friend's observations.
"Thanks for coming."
"What was I gonna do? Not come?" Vin nodded his head towards Ezra's leg. "Can I see?"
Ezra let out a sigh as he lifted his foot and then his pant leg to show Vin the tracker.
"Can you pick it?"
"No way. No way." Vin shook his head, "You flew too close to the sun, my friend. They burned your wings."
Ezra lowered his foot back down and leaned forward in his seat, "Where's Maude, Vin? Where did she go?"
"She's a ghost, man. She did an outstanding job of melting away."
"Well, keep looking. Check France."
"France." Vin was confused where that came from, but knew that his friend was just desperate.
"I know, okay? It's probably nothing. Just look everywhere. Something else. I need you to help me figure out who created this." Ezra said as he pulled out the fake bond he 'borrowed' from the Bureau. He laid it out on the table for Vin to look over.
"It's superb." Vin marveled as he continued to study it.
"Isn't it?"
"You know the worst thing about art forgery? You can't take credit for your work."
A light bulb went on in Ezra's head and he smiled.
The next morning, Chris was in the bathroom of his house, shaving. He paused and listened to the silence of the house for a couple of seconds before leaning towards the door.
"Sarah?" he called.
Pulling on an undershirt and stepping out of the bathroom cautiously, he called again. "Honey?" His second call like the first was met with silence. Taking the opportunity, he crept down the hall in socked feet to their bedroom. Making sure she wouldn't come in while he was snooping, he began looking through her book and music collection to get a sense of what she liked.
"What do you like?" he murmured to himself, "What's special?" Not finding anything there, he moved on to her computer. She had a few bracelets on top of it, and he moved them to the side and opened it up. The screen saver of a beach was clicked away and he saw an image on the desktop of a younger version of Sarah and him traveling in another country. That had been when he was trying to make it into the Bureau.
"Oh you haven't changed." He smiled at the picture of her, "I've changed."
The ringing of his cell phone had him closing the laptop and placing the bracelets back on top before answering it.
"Yeah, this is Larabee."
"It's JD. Standish's ankle is activated. Is he with you?"
Chris wanted to curse out loud, but didn't because he was still on the phone, "No. I'm coming." He quickly threw on the rest of his clothes, all the while listening to JD speak on the other end of the call.
"No, I've got Inez on it. We're pulling the locations." JD continued.
"Sarah, I've gotta go. Ezra's outside his radius—" Chris looked up from descended the stairs to see Sarah sitting on the couch in front of the coffee table with none other than Ezra. Adam was parked at the feet of the art thief. They had been laughing at something when he spoke and they looked up at him. Chris was at a loss for words and just stared as JD called his name.
"Agent Larabee, you still there?"
Another long minute passed before Chris finally could speak, "Standish is with me."
"You sure? Because we—"
"Yeah. Yeah." Chris said, before ending the call.
"Good morning, honey." Sarah smiled up at her husband.
"Chris." Ezra chimed in with a nod to the man.
"You're on my couch?" Chris stated the obvious.
"I came to talk to you." Ezra turned a gentlemanly smile towards Sarah, "And frankly, Chris, I have to say I'm surprised you have such an amazing wife."
Chris gave a smile, "Yeah, I like her." His smile then disappeared, "Get off my couch."
"Honey, we're just chatting." Sarah said, trying to calm Chris down.
Ezra's little grin was preventing that from happening though.
"Chatting? How did you get here?" Chris frowned in confusion.
"Cab."
"You activated your tracker. You're in my house, on my couch, with my wife." Chris listed the offenses, most of them being personal.
Adam sat up and gave a yawn before turning to Ezra and demanding rubs. Ezra obliged him.
"Oh hey, Adam. Hi." Ezra cooed.
"Now you're petting my dog." Chris threw up a hand in exasperation.
"Did you really put Sarah under surveillance before you asked her out?"
Chris's eyes got slightly bigger.
"Chris. I underestimated you." Ezra grinned.
"You told him." Chris looked to his wife.
"He said he wanted to make sure that I wasn't seeing anybody else. Honey, I think it's cute."
"I think it's adorable." Ezra added, folding his hands between his legs.
"I'm putting you back in prison." Chris muttered, getting his phone back out and beginning to dial.
Ezra leaned back in the couch, "I know who the Ghost is."
Chris had just finished dialing and the phone was ringing, "Enlighten me."
"Wallace Green."
Chris ended the call and shrugged to show the name wasn't familiar to him.
"He's an art restorer one of the best in the world. But his own work never took off. He's particularly good at Goya restorations. That's what this is, Chris, the bond is him showing off."
Sarah looked up at her husband.
"Interesting theory. How do you prove it?"
"He signed it."
"I think we might've noticed a signature tucked in the corner." Chris huffed.
"Show him." Sarah nodded to the bond.
Ezra pushed himself back to the edge of the couch and Chris stepped forward.
"Look at the pant on the Spanish peasant. What do you see?" Ezra asked.
A magnifying glass was provided to see the hatch marks more clearly.
"It's the initials W and G."
Chris picked up the paper and squinted at it. "I don't know that's a stretch."
"This bond is a masterpiece. If I'd done something this good, I would've signed it. The forgeries you caught me on, I signed them."
This was news to Chris, "Where?"
"Look at the bank seal under a polarized light sometime. Green is doing a church restoration on 3rd street. We can stop by on our way in."
Chris figured it wouldn't cost him too much time to stop by, "Fine. Meet me in the car." He handed the magnifying glass back to Ezra. When Ezra didn't get up Chris turned to him, "I'm gonna say goodbye to my wife now."
"Oh yeah." Ezra got up and Chris followed. Sarah got up last. "Ahem. It was nice to meet you." He smiled warmly at her.
"Nice to meet you after all these years." Sarah smiled and tilted her head to the side and looked at her husband.
Chris was wondering what he did to deserve that look before shaking his head and looking at the back of Ezra as he left. Sarah just shrugged.
They made it to the church and found the doors open. Walking inside, they could smell the powerful stench of paint. The church was impressive with a high vaulted ceiling and scroll columns.
"This is it?" asked Chris, looking at all the paintings on the walls.
"Yep."
"You can't come in. We're closed for restoration." Called the father of the church as he walked to them.
"Oh, sorry, father." Chris apologized, turning to leave.
"Could we just—?" Ezra pulled Chris to a stop, "Could we just have a moment? Thank you."
Chris rolled his eyes and took a few steps away to continue to look at the art. The father looked suspiciously at Ezra.
"Father, come here a second." Ezra said, leading him further from Chris while giving him a look. Chris waved his hands in a gesture, questioning what he did wrong before ignoring them.
"Please, father." Ezra whispered so Chris couldn't hear their conversation, "My best friend is having a crisis of the soul. He's a married man, and he has the most devastatingly beautiful assistant at work, a very provocative woman. He's been tempted. More than tempted. I have details."
"That's very common with men his age. Unfortunately, very common."
"And I wanna confront him about this before he tears apart his life. Look, he has a lot of faults. I mean, don't get me started. He's a mess. But he's very spiritual."
The father turned to look at Chris. Chris was leaning up against the pew, seeming to be rocking back and forth. It could totally be taken a different way depending on how you looked at it. He gave a self-conscious smile to ward off any awkwardness.
Ezra frowned, trying to understand what the man was doing but had to get rid of any evidence of that as the father turned back to him.
"I know this is the place where my words will have the most effect."
"This is the City of Churches. We're closed. Surely there's another—"
"This is where he was married." Ezra interrupted the father.
The father sighed before giving a nod, "Five minutes."
"Thank you. Thank you, father." Ezra said in relief before walking over to Chris who was waiting for him. "Sorry about that. We got five."
Chris gave the father a wave before following Ezra up to the front, "Did you just lie to a priest?" he asked in a whisper.
"Do you think Inez's attractive?"
"Sure."
"Then we're good."
They made it to the front where a smaller painting was being restored of Mary, Joseph and Jesus.
"Extraordinary." Ezra said as he looked it over.
"Real nice." Chris said, not really a fan of this particular style in painting. "So if this Green guy is as good as you say, how come I've never heard of him?"
Ezra climbed up on the plastic covered furniture to get a closer look at the painting. "You only know the guys who get caught." He looked back at Chris, "You know the second-best criminals."
"What does that say about you?"
Ezra had went back to looking back at the painting but then turned slightly away from it, "It says there's an exception to every rule."
Chris smiled and distracted himself with looking around the church from his spot.
"Look. W and G." Ezra gained his attention again.
"Where?" Chris climbed the furniture to get a closer look.
"Right here." He pointed to the specific area, "Right there. W G." He used his magnifying glass to enlarge it.
It was located in the hem of Jesus' garments and was really small and done backwards.
"Maybe." Chris mumbled.
"What do you mean, maybe? That's a W and a G."
"Can I help you, gentlemen?" came a new voice from behind. Chris and Ezra stood up from their crouched positions. A man with a painter's jacket was standing on the other side of the far room, but he began to make his way over to them. He pointed at Ezra, "Your face is familiar. Maybe I've seen it on the news, or perhaps on a most-wanted web page."
"Ezra Standish." Ezra extended a hand out. Chris stood to the side and watched with interest.
"Forgive me if I don't shake hands with an art thief." The man said, looking at the appendage.
"I was never arrested for art theft." Ezra smiled as he lowered his hand.
"Not arrested. But, as I recall, you were known as quite the Renaissance criminal. So you can understand my concern at having you in my space." The man then turned to Chris, "And you are?" looking him up and down, not impressed.
"Just a friend." Chris smiled coolly.
"Well, friend, this church is closed." He indicated with a thumb towards the exit.
Ezra went first, keeping his hands visible to show he didn't have anything before Chris followed.
"Did you see it?" asked Ezra with a hint of excitement.
"Okay. You've got me curious. We'll check him out."
"Listen to the Spirit, son, not the flesh." Called the father to Chris.
"I'll do that." Chris said, not sure what the man was talking about.
As he turned to leave, he could've sworn he saw the man shake his head before heading back to his office.
"What was that about?" Chris asked Ezra, but the younger man only chuckled.
Back at the Bureau Chris called Ezra into his office and told him to shut the door. Ezra did and before he could fully turn around Chris was talking.
"Need your help with this." He indicated a stack waiting for Ezra to look at. Ezra took his time sitting down.
"Is this information on Green?"
"No. Inez's on her way with that."
Ezra studied the first paper and then looked up at Chris as if he had finally sunk to a whole new level of desperate.
"This is your wife's Visa bill."
"Yeah. I got it all." Chris said, "Her eBay bods, video rentals, library books. Thank you, Patriot Act." He smiled, a little proud of himself.
"So you're stalking your own wife." Ezra stated bluntly.
"Wanna compare notes?" Chris rose an eyebrow.
Ezra gave a tiny nod, "Touche." He picked up the piece of paper and began looking it over, "You figure out what she likes?"
"Yep. It's all in the summary." Chris picked said paper up, "Pottery-making. Nancy Drew mysteries. Scented candles. Oleander. Old jazz. Anything Italian except anchovies."
"Yeah, I don' think you're gonna find your answer tucked into a list of her eBay bids." Ezra said, setting the paper down.
Chris sighed, "Help me out here, all right? You're the romantic. I mean what's the deal with the bottle?"
Ezra gave a little shrug when he was being called the romantic between the two of them.
"It's an '82 Bordeaux."
"Yeah. Cost $800 a pop."
"It does when it's full. I got it empty."
"Empty?"
"When Maude and I lived together, we had nothing. She got that bottle, and she used to fill it up with whatever cheap wine we could afford. And we'd sit in that crappy apartment and drink it over Chinese food and pretend we were living in the Cote d'Azur."
"How did that work out for you?"
"It didn't. Because that bottle was a promise of a better life. What Maude got was a son who could never do anything right and got locked away for half a decade." Ezra took a deep breath, "Make Sarah any promises, Chris? Or you think what she really wants is oleander candles?"
Chris thought about it and there was a pause before there came a knock at the door. Inez stepped in and Chris removed the files he had made up on his wife.
"Hey, Inez. What do you got?"
"Green is leaving the country." Inez said, handing Chris a small stack of papers. "He booked a flight through a charter company in Barcelona for the 19th."
"One week. Damn it, Ezra. Seeing you must've tipped him off."
Ezra was slightly offended that he was being blamed for any of this, "He's going to Spain. That's something." He pointed out.
"Is there any connection to our books, the bonds, the murder?" asked Chris.
"Green's impressive. A lot of international holdings. But he keeps himself out of the muck." Inez shook her head.
"Get every available agent on this. You know the good ones. Steal them if you have to. I want to know every single thing about this guy, and I don't' want any excuses. Anything gets in your way—"
"Forge your signature. Always do." Inez smiled before leaving the room.
"That's what I want to hear." Chris called after her. Once she was gone Chris got up from his seat. "If you're right about Green we have one week to connect him to the bond." Ezra nodded, serious. "If we lose him on the 19th… Ezra, if we lose him, you're back in. I can't save you."
Ezra went back home, the sun nearly finishing its descent. He stopped from going upstairs and smiled when he saw his friend. Making his way over, he slid his hat across the piano and Vin caught it.
"You're late." Vin reflected.
"Hey, give me a break, I'm a working man now."
Vin tried on the hat and looked down at Ezra who was leaning on the instrument. "So?"
"We were right about Green."
"Of course we were right."
"And I was stupid and impulsive, and he saw me… I have one week to link him to the bonds."
Vin frowned and sat back down, "One week, or what?"
"I go back."
"No, no, no."
"Yeah. Did you find anything about Maude?"
"Aha. Apparently, if a tree falls in the forest, it does make a sound." Vin said as he pulled out a photo from his bag and slid it across to Ezra. Ezra looked the picture over from a security surveillance.
Vin smiled about his success.
There, in the picture was his mother and her eyes were looking to the side. A hand was on her shoulder with a clunky looking ring on the pinky finger.
Ezra shook his head, "I'm going to lose her again, Vin."
"Lose her" I just found her."
"So did he." Ezra said, looking at the man's hand in the photo, "So did he."
The next morning Ezra and Chris were walking down the sidewalk. It was windy out and they both wore overcoats to block out the majority of the wind.
"Remember when you told me not to look for Maude?" Ezra began after a long period of silence.
"Yeah." Chris said, not liking where this conversation was headed already.
Ezra pulled out half of the picture he had gotten from Vin the night before. He handed it to Chris to look at.
"Ezra, you're putting me in a tough spot here."
"These were taken four days ago at a San Diego ATM. She's going under the name Maude Purdue Swanson. You know what 'Purdue' means in French?"
"Yeah. It means lost." Chris said, handing the photo back before continuing to walk.
"Yeah. Makes you wonder, right? Is she lost to me, or without me?"
"Stop it."
"I just need a couple days. After this Ghost thing is over. A couple days to go to San Diego. You can send an agent down with me. You can come with me."
"Stop it. Stop it." Chris came to an abrupt halt and turned on Ezra. "How many times are you gonna screw up your life for this woman? I hate to break it to you, buddy, but she abandoned you, with prejudice."
Ezra shook his head, stubbornly, "No."
Chris sighed, "Exactly what is your plan if you find her?"
Ezra began to get hopeful that Chris would help him again, but really, he hadn't thought about the end if they found her. Chris stood there waiting for him to say something.
"I know there's more to the story. She disappears in the dust? No. That's not an ending."
"Come on, man. We've all been there. It gets easier with time."
"She's my mother." Chris shook his head. "I brought this to you, doesn't that count for something?"
"No. We made a deal. I have you something good here, and you're about to blow it."
Ezra took a few steps back and looked away. He gave a soft chuckle before looking back at Chris, "You're right. You're right, Mr. Larabee. I'm a smart guy. I should know when I've been dumped."
They finally continued down the street and once again they were silent until Ezra broke it again.
"You figure out your anniversary plans yet?"
"I'm getting close. Very close."
"So, you got nothing."
"Nothing. But I'll find it."
They were nearing the FBI building when Ezra caught a glimpse of Vin just outside, smoking. They made eye contact and he pulled Chris to a stop, "Hey, um, I'm gonna go grab a smoke really quick."
"Didn't know you smoked."
"It's a nasty prison habit. I've been trying to quit."
Chris nodded and glanced over, spotting JD outside talking to some other agents who were gathered together. A few of them were smoking around the younger agent while the man himself rambled on. In particular, to a talker man that looked like they could be related.
"Dunne, keep an eye on him."
"Yep." JD said, acknowledging Chris with a wave of his hand.
Ezra walked over to Vin casually, "Bum one from you?"
"These things will kill you." Vin said as he pulled one out for Ezra.
"That's what I keep hearing, but I'm not dead yet."
"But these filters, they're good." Vin looked pointedly to Ezra as Standish put it up to his mouth. "Not for me, you understand. I tear them off."
"Need a light?" asked one of the agents to Ezra who lit the cigarette. The mustache on the man looked funny on the agent, but his brilliant blue eyes were probably his most distinguishing feature.
"You should try the patch." JD suggested, "My friend here smokes, thinks it looks cool. I've almost got him convinced to give them a shot."
"Two years and counting." Vin patted his shoulder, "I hate the tan lines."
Ezra waited until the agents were a little further away.
"You don't smoke."
"What was I supposed to do, fire off a flare?" Vin said, inhaling the smoke before letting a little smoke out at a time.
"So you tear off the filter?"
"Yeah. But I'm hardcore." Vin said, before he inhaled too much and had to muffle his coughing. Ezra shook his head.
When he was alone. Ezra snapped off the filter and unraveled the paper. Inside was a small scroll. On it was an address. He smiled, silently thanking Vin.
Chris was in his office, still thinking on what to do for his anniversary. He then caught a glimpse of the picture by his desk. It was of the beach. That was it! He smiled.
A knock at his door made him swivel around in his chair to see Ezra, "I found my bottle."
"I found Green." Ezra lifted up the piece of paper he had found.
"You first." Chris said, becoming serious again.
"This is a warehouse down by the docks. Green runs it through a shell corporation out of Guatemala."
"We didn't know about this. How did you?"
"I don't think you rely on rumor as much as I do."
Chris wasn't going to deny that so he got up and grabbed his coat. "Let's go."
Down at the docks, there were at least a dozen men there. Chris and Ezra hid alongside the building at one of the garage doors. Ezra put his ear closer to the metal door and could hear inside. "Do you hear that? You hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"That kind of rhythmic—shh." They listened for a while as the noise continued, "That's a press. Damn it, Chris, that is a printing press. He's printing bonds now. You can hear it."
"How long till they're done?"
"A multicolored print job as complicated as the Goya, I mean, test proofs ink formulation, perfect registration. He'll be running it for days."
Chris dialed Inez up, "Inez."
"Yeah, boss?"
"I need recording equipment down here immediately."
"You got it."
Back at the office Chris was fired up, "I'm onboard. Green is our guy." Not that he had so little faith in Standish that he didn't believe him. "But we still don't have enough for a warrant."
"We know the bonds are there. Just open the door." Ezra said, not seeing the problem.
"Mm-hm. Well, you should read this: Warrant law." Chris slid a thick book across the table, "All I've got is sound coming out of a warehouse, and no way to link him to the bond." He leaned forward on the table and Ezra looked up from his perusal of the book, "I've gotta talk to your friend."
"Friend?" Ezra frowned.
"Come on, Ezra. The guy who gave you a cigarette."
"I have no—" Ezra began, looking incredulous.
"What, you think JD is an idiot?"
Ezra sighed.
"I have to know how he connected Green to the warehouse. Come on, Ezra. And you gotta trust me."
"Okay. Okay. I'll bring you to him. First thing tomorrow."
"Good."
At night, Ezra stayed up reading the Warrant law book while in bed. He tried to formulate a plan. After a while he closed it and rested it on his bare chest before looking down at his anklet. Suddenly he got up and grabbed the keys to Nettie's car.
Chris heard his phone vibrating early in the morning and he answered it.
"Yeah?" he listened to the speaker before muttering to himself, "Damn."
Turning off his phone he pulled back the covers.
"What's going on?" Sarah asked from her side of the bed.
"He ran."
Ezra drove down to the docks and parked Nettie's car out of harm's way. There were two men outside of the warehouse that morning. He brought out the camera he had with him and began taking pictures of the warehouse. It soon got the men's attention and one of them came up to him.
"Hey."
"Hi there." Ezra said with a smile and a wave.
"Hey. Hey. What are you doing? You can't be here."
"Oh. I'm taking a photography class over at the Annes, and pictures of rusty sheet metal are a sure-fire A."
Two men grabbed him and one took the camera.
"Take him inside."
Ezra was man-handled inside and was pleased to see the Spanish books from before as well as the printing press.
The man who seemed to be in charge instructed another man to go get Green. Ezra was pushed into a glass office set up in the middle of the warehouse.
"What exactly is going on here?" called Green.
Ezra quickly locked himself inside the office.
"Why did you bring him inside?" Green growled.
"He was taking pictures."
"Open the door. You're a dead man." Called a man with a gun.
Ezra wasn't that impressed with the threat, "That sounds like inch-thick Lexan." Meaning it wasn't going to break the glass anytime soon.
Green nodded for one of his men to get an extra set of keys before turning back to Ezra.
"Keys are on the way." Green said with a smug smile.
Ezra explored the office and rapped his knuckled on the wooden desk. "Nice." He said in approval. He sat down in the chair and propped his feet on the desk. "You shouldn't have signed the bonds. I'm no stranger to vanity myself. So I understand the impulse."
"I'm gonna kill you. I hope whatever they're giving you is worth it." Green said.
"It is."
The sound of sirens could now be heard outside.
Green looked to Ezra who lifted his pant leg to show the anklet and the flashing red light.
"You are a particular kind of bastard." Green pointed an angry finger at Ezra.
Outside Chris was stepping out of his car was a pleased smile on his face, "Gentlemen, we have a fugitive hiding in this building. Knock down those doors."
"Grab the bonds. Come on, let's go!" called the second in command as he walked with Green towards an exit. "Everybody, come on!"
The door was busted open and the FBI stormed the building. The men working for Green rose their hands up and Green was trapped.
Chris walked inside, making his way to Ezra, "This is what the law calls an exigent circumstance. Any of you Harvard grads know what that is? Huh?" he looked around, "No hands? Inez?"
"Exigent circumstance allows us to pursue a suspect onto private property without obtaining a warrant." Inez recited.
"And to seize any and all evidence that has been discovered in plain view," Chris stopped in front of Green, "regardless of the connection to the original crime." He picked up a bond and held it up, "Hey. Remember me, friend?" Chris walked pass them to the second in command, "Oh there's your lawyer." The man who was at the airport.
I seemed that everyone was accounted for.
Ezra was content inside, smoking an expensive cigar when Chris arrived. He opened the door for him.
"You know you're really bad at this escaping thing."
"What can I say? Cigar?"
"Cuban?"
"You should arrest me." Ezra pointed to himself and the cigar in his mouth.
"Well, I'll let the cigar go, but you are a fleeing suspect."
Ezra looked behind himself to a safe that he had graciously opened for them.
"Is that the original Victory Bond?"
"Why, yes. Yes, it is."
Chris chuckled and the two of them sat on the desk, watching the agents sort through the evidence.
"You know, this makes me 3 and 0."
Ezra couldn't believe Chris was keeping record, and looked at him as if he were serious. "Maybe I'm not trying hard enough."
Sarah chuckled as she was led from behind by Chris with a tie covering her eyes.
"Careful." He said, closing the door behind them and holding her close as he guided her forward. "Alright. Almost there."
"Honey. Think I'm getting seasick."
"Just a little farther."
"Okay. All right."
"All right, this is good." He began undoing the makeshift blindfold. "Not I want you to keep your eyes closed."
"I promised." she smiled.
Chris hurried forward and found the remote to turn on the music. Tropical music played and he told her she could open her eyes.
It was the spot on top of Nettie's house, overlooking the cities. Lights were lining the wall with plants, a mini surf board and a lawn chair and umbrella at the ready. A fire in a portable pit was sitting beside it.
Sarah was at a loss for words, looking at it all.
"Honey, you know how every year I'm always promising you we're gonna go?" Chris began.
Sarah smiled and nodded, "To the Caribbean."
"This is sort of what you wanted."
"Well, I think if I keep my eyes closed, I can actually imagine us being there." She joked. Chris led her closer to the fire, "Oh. And it's getting warmer."
They sat together on the lawn chair, his firm chest up against her back. He brought out some beers with cheesy screw tops and they joked about that. After clinking their bottles together Chris asked if it was all too cheesy.
"It's a little cheesy, but it's sweet."
Chris reached inside his jacket, "Maybe this will help."
Sarah took the pieces of paper read it.
"Belize." Chris said.
"What?" Sarah said in astonishment.
"I found the time." Sarah looked at him, "We have a week, and two plane tickets, and a seized villa in Sarteneja."
"In where?"
"Oh, this really incredible beachfront villa that the Bureau seized from this narco trafficker. It's amazing—"
"Okay, it's—enough with—just tell me it's nice."
"It's nice."
"I love you."
"I love you."
The two of them kissed, Chris holding his wife close in his arms, sharing body heat in the cool night.
"You know, there are better ways to get us warmer." Sarah grinned deviously.
"Here?"
"I was talking about at home, honey. As much as I enjoy the view…"
"Say no more." Chris said, pulling her up as he stood himself. They laughed as he pulled her along towards the stairs, the heater and the tropical music all forgotten.
In the morning, nothing was left of the night before besides the lights which were already there. Ezra was leaning on the wall, looking out towards the city in his pajamas and house coat. Chris arrived from the stairs as silent as usual.
"Can't beat that view." He said, gaining Ezra's attention.
"Did Sarah like it?"
"She loved it."
"Coffee?" Ezra indicated to the table where the coffee was set up.
"Yeah. Italian roast?"
Chris poured them both some.
"Going on vacation." Ezra smiled.
"Yep." Chris picked up his coffee and sat down. Ezra joined him. "We'll be back in a week."
"Still wearing that suit." Ezra looked at the habitual black.
"Yeah, I love this suit."
Ezra chuckled before growing serious again, "Did they make a decision?"
Chris set down his coffee and sighed. He dug into his coat jacket, "Figured if we didn't," Chris said bringing out a badge with Ezra's name and picture on it, "you'd end up making one of these on your own."
Ezra laughed and accepted it from Chris.
"I'm official."
"You're a consultant." Chris corrected. "And I own you for four years. You okay with that?"
"Yeah."
Chris set down his empty cup. "You'll be here when I get back?"
"Where else am I gonna go?" the comment spoke of a hint of a challenge but Chris ignored it as part of Ezra's usual behavior. He got up and went back down the stairs. Once Chris was gone Ezra picked up the newspaper where he had hidden the picture of Maude. He placed the pieces beside each other. He was determined to find her.