Little White Lies

Part of my Dead Reckonings 'verse, set several years in the future. Crossover with Highlander: the Series (but no characters from the crossover appear). Two-shot.

Written for the NFA Future Fic and Fifty-Seven Mount Pleasant Street Challenges.

Summary: While on a family road trip, Sarah McGee finds something she thought she had lost a decade ago.

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of their respective copyright holders. No infringement intended. The original characters and places mentioned are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to those living, dead, or undead is completely coincidental.

Chapter 1

The blazing summer sun had-thankfully-just sunk below the horizon as Sarah McGee-Harris guided the family car into a gas station. She pulled up next to the pump and turned off the engine, happy to finally have break from driving. She nudged her tall, curly-blond-haired passenger, eliciting a groan from the man to whom she'd been married for nearly ten years.

"Wake up, Mike. Your turn to drive. I'll pump the gas." She turned to check on the dark-haired child in the back seat and saw that Emma was awake, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

"Are we there yet, Mom?"

"Just a few more miles to the lodge. We needed gas."

"Oh."

"I expect we both need a pit stop," Mike added, and Emma nodded. "Come on, munchkin." He climbed out of the car and held the door for Emma as she climbed out as well.

"Your usual?" he asked his wife as she dug in her purse for her wallet.

"Yeah, thanks." He leaned across the seat and gave her a quick kiss before shutting the door and leading Emma across the parking lot. Sarah finally managed to retrieve her credit card and climbed out of the car herself. She pre-paid for the gas with her card and started the pump before leaning against the car to survey the area. There was only one other car at the far pump, and one parked near the back of the store. No other people were in sight.

Sarah closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. They had been on the road for five days, part of Mike's grand plan for a family trip. They had driven across the southern part of the country and were now in Arizona, probably 30 miles from the southern rim of the Grand Canyon where they had planned to stop for the night.

Basically the middle of nowhere, Sarah thought to herself. Guess that means we're on vacation.

The pump finally clicked off and she replaced the nozzle on the holder before turning to put the gas cap back on the tank. She looked over the top of the car at the surrounding high desert, enjoying the momentary peace and quiet of the summer twilight.

Her reverie was disrupted by the slamming of a car door and she turn to see the other car start up and drive off. It was an old station wagon, well used, with Saint Isadore Catholic Church painted across the back window in neat white letters.

Probably local, Sarah thought, and returned her attention to the desert. She could hear the plaintive yips of coyotes, a sound that immediately brought to mind a rush of loneliness...and isolation. It was quite different from the noise and traffic back home in Raleigh-Durham; a nice change, but she didn't think she could stand it for the long term. She needed the hustle and bustle of city life. It kept her occupied, and made it easier to keep her mind off...unpleasant memories.

Several minutes passed before Mike and Emma emerged from the store. Emma appeared rather animated, and Mike was clearly uncomfortable with her excitement and was keeping a tight grip on her hand as he led her across the expanse of concrete to the pumps.

"What's going on?" Sarah asked as she accepted a styrofoam cup from her husband.

"Did you see that man?" Emma blurted out, ignoring the glare her father was giving her. "He looked just like Uncle Tim!"

Sarah winced at the mention of her late brother. Even ten years later, it hurt to think of Tim, although she was constantly being reminded of him by Emma. She had come across his picture in one of Sarah's old photo albums and had begged her mother to tell her about him. Ever since then Emma had been almost obsessed with learning as much as she could about her uncle, an interest that made her father more than a little uncomfortable.

"No, he didn't. That was just your imagination, Emma."

"Yes, he did, Dad! Look, I took his picture." She started to pull out her phone and Sarah groaned.

"Emma, how many times have I told you not to take pictures of strangers?"

"But Mom-!"

"Give me the phone."

Emma huffed. "Fine. But look at the picture!"

Sarah sighed. She hadn't been thrilled when Mike had bought the phone for Emma, claiming an eight-year old didn't need such an accessory. It looked like she had just been proven right. She glanced at her daughter and groaned again when she took in the pleading expression.

"Alright, but you're not getting it back. You need to learn to follow the rules." She opened the photo app and let out a small gasp when she saw the picture of the man Emma had seen.

It was Tim.

That's impossible. It can't be him… My brother is dead!

She enlarged the image so she could get a better look and her eyes widened as she took in the details. The picture showed the right side of man's face clearly: he had a small scar on his cheek, identical to the one Tim had, in the exact same place.

How?

"Mom, are you OK?"

She managed to pull her gaze away from the picture to meet her daughter's worried green eyes.

"Fine. I'm fine."

"It does look like him, right?"

"Emma, don't harass your mother."

"It's OK," Sarah replied, unable to keep the tremor from her voice. "He does look a little bit like your uncle. Funny coincidence, huh?"

"Something like that," Mike replied as he opened the door and motioned for Emma to get in the car. "It's getting late. We need to get to the lodge."

"Of course." Sarah handed him the keys and climbed into the passenger seat. Mike walked around to the other side of the car and after he was buckled into the driver's seat he turned to his wife.

"You sure you're OK?"

"Fine." She gave him a shaky smile. "Just tired. It's been a long day."

He studied her for a few moments, clearly not buying her story but also aware enough of her emotions to let her excuse lie. "Alright. I'll get us there as soon as I can."

"Thanks."

Emma remained silent, obviously aware of the tension between her parents, and after several miles has passed Sarah checked on her to find her fast asleep again.

"She's right," Sarah murmured, causing Mike to glance at her. "It really does look like Tim."

"Sarah…"

"I know. It can't be him, but… It was almost nice to think it could be. That he could still be alive." She laughed softly. "When it happened, I didn't want to believe… I mean, there wasn't even a body. He was just...gone. I was convinced it was some grand conspiracy, but… He wouldn't have done that to me."

Mike reached over and gently rubbed her arm. "I'm sorry. This was supposed to be a fun, relaxing trip, and…"

She placed her own hand over his and give him a gentle squeeze. "It's OK."

Finally they made it to the lodge and got settled into their cabin before heading out to dinner. Emma was surprisingly quiet through the meal and Sarah wanted to brush it off as exhaustion, but she knew the child well enough to see she was bothered by something.

After the meal was finished they returned to their two-bedroom cabin and Sarah helped Emma get ready for bed.

"Mom?" Emma asked as Sarah tucked her in. "Are you really OK?"

"I'm fine, honey. Just tired. It was a long day."

"Are you still mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you. Why would you ask that?"

"I made you sad."

Sarah sighed and gave her daughter a weary smile. "It's OK. I'll be fine. Now get some sleep. You father has a big day planned for you tomorrow."

"OK. Good night, Mom."

"Good night, sweetheart."

Sarah turned out the light and quietly returned to the other bedroom. Mike was already in bed, reading the guide book on his phone.

"Everything OK?"

Sarah just nodded and slipped under the covers, cuddling against her husband. He set the phone on the nightstand and wrapped his arms around her as well. Sarah had almost drifted off to sleep when Mike spoke.

"You want to talk about it?"

"About what?"

"Tim."

Sarah winced, the old ache returning. "What is there to talk about? My brother was a federal agent who was killed in the line of duty, protecting his boss and partner. He died a hero. It's what he would have wanted."

"What about what you want?"

"I… I still miss him, Mike. I know I can't have him back, but… I just wish I had had a chance to say goodbye."

"I'm sorry I never got to meet him."

She looked up at Mike and gave him a watery smile. "Yeah, me too. My brother would never have let me live it down, marrying a 'geek'." She gave him a gentle squeeze. "I think you two would have gotten along well."

"Once we got past the 'protective big brother interrogating the man who wants to marry his baby sister' phase."

"You would have passed that with flying colors."

"I'd like to think so."

She reached up and kissed him. "I know so."

He returned the kiss and hugged her tightly. "I owe him, you know. If he hadn't kept you out of trouble…"

"We would never have our family." She sighed. "I know. I never really thanked him for everything he did for me. I wish…"

"I know, Sarah. I know."

After Mike had turned out the light and curled around her, holding her close, she rested her head on his chest and tried to get to sleep. Unfortunately, the memories kept playing over in her mind: turning on the TV and seeing the news-a federal agent had been killed, mentions of NCIS-and in that moment she had known her brother was gone. She had gone to NCIS, demanding to know what had happened, wanting to see for herself, and hadn't even been given that chance.

It still bothered her, she hated to admit, that uncertainty. Maybe that was why she had such trouble letting the whole thing go. She had harassed the rest of Tim's team, begging for answers, none of which had satisfied her. Finally she had turned her back on them, ignoring the pain that they, too, were clearly feeling. She hadn't been able to forgive them for not finding her brother after he had made the ultimate sacrifice to save them.

Not wanting to disturb Mike's rest, Sarah eased away from his embrace and crawled out of bed, quietly making her way out to the main room of the cabin. She searched through her purse and found Emma's phone, once again pulling up the picture of the man who was a carbon copy of Tim.

As she stared at the picture, she began to wonder: was it possible that Tim was alive? That his death was staged as some part of a cover-up? She had posed those questions to his boss, but Agent Gibbs had assured her there was no conspiracy; her brother was gone, and nothing would bring him back.

Sarah returned Emma's phone to her purse and pulled out her tablet. She had promised not to do any work while they were on the road, but she had brought the device along in case of an emergency. She pulled up the web browser, thankful that her husband had made sure she had the best and most reliable connectivity for all of their devices, and started a search for the name of the church she had seen on the car. It didn't take long for her to find an address: 57 Mount Pleasant Street. She checked the milage and discovered that the church was a little less than an hour's drive to the south. She checked her watch: it was only 2:00 AM, way too early to pay a visit.

Sarah leaned back in the chair she was currently occupying and sighed. I must be crazy. It's just a coincidence. Leave the poor man alone! Then she remembered something she had heard from Tim himself, something he had no doubt learned from his boss: no such thing as a coincidence.

I have to know. I have to see for myself…

Decision made, Sarah quietly got dressed and sat down to wait for sunrise. While she waited, she wrote a quick note to Mike, explaining that she had an errand to run and would be back as soon as possible so as not to ruin their plans. They had intended to spend half a day at the Canyon before moving on to their next reserved lodging at Lake Havasu. At the most, it would be a two hour trip, and she'd probably be back before Emma was even awake.

She passed the rest of the time researching the church itself. There wasn't much, except for a brief news story of a burglary that had been foiled by a passing drifter, with no photos of the good samaritan himself.

Finally the sky started to lighten from black to grey and Sarah placed the note in plain sight before slipping out of the cabin and locking the door. Soon she was in the car and entering the address into the GPS. It confirmed the driving time and directions she had obtained in her search, and she started driving away from the cabin.

The sun was cresting the horizon as Sarah turned onto Mount Pleasant Street and started the drive up the winding mountain road. When she reached the summit she saw a sign for the church, along with a mailbox bearing the number 57. She pulled into the small gravel lot on the south side of the building and parked her car next to the station wagon she had seen the previous night.

Sarah climbed out of the car and surveyed the property. The church itself was set on about an acre of cleared ground surrounded by dark, scraggly pine trees, bushy juniper and tall, slender white-barked aspen. At the northern end of the property near the tree line was a small clapboard house, recently painted white. The house was flanked by a rather impressive woodpile and small, well-tended garden. Must be the priest's residence, Sarah thought. She hesitated a moment and decided to try the church first.

A neat stone path led from the parking lot to the front steps of the church on the west side of the building. Sarah followed the path to the entrance and noticed that anyone standing on the front steps would have a wonderful view, through a break in the trees, of the surrounding mountains and the valley below. She paused for a moment to appreciate the scene before turning and studying the church.

Except for the bell tower at the front, the church was a single story wooden structure, cross-shaped with a high peaked roof. It, too, had been recently painted white and the roof looked newly shingled. The front wall of the bell tower contained a simple circular rose window, with eight clear glass "petals" surrounding a small open circle. There were no other windows in the front but Sarah had noticed several small stained-glass panels along the side as she had passed.

The doors were solid wood, with iron fittings-obviously old, but well-cared for-and the handle was cool beneath her hand when Sarah grabbed it to pull one of doors open. It swung out easily and she stepped into the cool interior of the church. The narthex was cool and quiet, with a field-stone floor and whitewashed walls, and a staircase in one corner that crossed half of the ceiling and then ascended to the bell tower. She proceeded into the nave, which had two rows of plain wooden pews on either side, ten in all. The stained glass windows on both sides were small but detailed, and depicted eight biblical scenes, similar to those Sarah had seen in the churches she had attended growing up. The room was open to the roof, with visible wooden struts and cross beams, and it, too, was cool and quiet.

When she reached the transept, she saw other familiar icons from her childhood. A confessional occupied each of the ends of the transept, with dark wood screens and brown cloth curtains ensuring privacy. The lectern stood on the left side of the sanctuary, in front of the communion rail, and was draped with a gold-embroidered red cloth. Upon it sat a large leather bound bible, clearly old and well used. The pulpit stood on the right, unadorned but beautifully carved from dark wood, with a carved wooden presider's chair off to one side. Beyond the communion rail stood the altar, which was draped with a white, gold-edged cloth, and a gold chalice sat in the center, surrounded by several gold and silver plates and candles in brass bases. Behind the altar hung a large crucifix, and above the tormented figure of Christ on the cross was a second rose window, much more elaborate and constructed of hundreds of diamond-shaped panels of colored glass that created a kaleidoscope of multi-colored light in the early morning sun.

"May I help you?"

Startled, Sarah spun around and saw an elderly man dressed in a priest's cassock. His snow-white hair stood out in contrast to his deeply tanned and wrinkled skin. He was studying her with dark brown eyes, a mildly quizzical expression on his face.

"I'm sorry, Father, I didn't mean to barge in like this-"

He smiled. "All are welcome, child. You can never 'barge in' to God's House."

"Right...sorry, uh..."

"Father Javier," he said as he placed a hand on his chest. "How may I be of service?"

"I…" She fumbled for her purse and pulled out Emma's phone. "I'm looking for this man." She brought up the image and held it out for his inspection. "I think I saw him driving your...the church's car last night."

Father Javier examined the image and smiled again, although Sarah though she saw a hint of worry in his gaze. "Yes, I know him. That's David. He lives here."

"He's a priest?"

Father Javier chuckled. "No. He's our handyman. He takes care of the buildings and the grounds...and me, when necessary. A good man."

"How long has he worked for you?"

Father Javier paused to think. "Let me see...six, no seven years." His smile faltered slightly. "I was fortunate that he arrived when he did."

"What happened?"

"He stopped a burglary. Two men came in one night, intent on stealing some items of value, and when they did not find as much here as they had hoped they threatened me. David was passing through and saw what was happening. He was able to subdue them until the police arrived. I have no doubt he also prevented the men from inflicting serious injury upon myself. I told him it was Providence that he was here to stop them." Father Javier chuckled softly. "He did not agree."

"But he decided to stay?"

"It took some convincing, but I could see that he needed to rest, and recover from whatever it was that had set him adrift. He has never shared with me what that was, but I do believe he has benefited from being here as well." He tilted his head slightly and studied her again. "I do not mean to pry, but you have not given a reason for your interest."

"He… I think he might be my brother."

The priest's eyebrows rose in surprise. "David has not mentioned any family. I received the distinct impression that they were...gone."

"We thought he was gone as well."

"I see. Well, I imagine you would like to speak with him and decide if he is whom you believe him to be. If you did not see him out on the grounds, then he is most likely in his quarters in the undercroft. The basement." He pointed back towards the narthex. "The stairs are below those leading to the bell tower."

"Thank you."

Father Javier took one of her hands in both of his and gave a gentle squeeze. "I hope you find what you are looking for," he added sincerely before releasing her.

Sarah could only manage a shaky nod and started walking towards the door. She soon found the steps leading to the basement and slowly descended, not sure what she was going to find when she reached the bottom.

The small space was surprisingly clean but crowded, with boxes neatly stacked along the walls. On the far side of the room she saw a door and walked towards it, her heart pounding in her chest.

What if this is for nothing?

She reached the door and raised her hand to knock, pausing a moment to steel herself against what she might-or might not-find on the other side. Finally she rapped on the door and a muffled voice called out "just a minute!". She waited and soon the door swung inward, revealing the basement's occupant.

"Oh my God…"

Sarah's had went to her mouth as she stared up into the face of the man she hadn't seen in ten years.

"Tim?"

TBC…

A/N: I am not Catholic, so please forgive any mistakes I may have made in describing the church. No offense intended.