Author's Note: So, hey guys. Obviously you're reading this which means the first chapter of Hunting Ridley is uploaded. Updates are every Wednesday and remember that although I am taking a break from writing my other Karla and Saul stories, this will feature them quite heavily. The back-story of my characters is completely fictional, I made it up to suit the story and I in no way own these characters or the Savant idea- all rights go to Joss Stirling. This will also be featured on my blog; the link is in my author profile. This is about the boys finding their soulfinders and if you have any questions, then feel free to jump up and down, waving your hands in the air. Thank you for reading and reviewing in advance, I hope you enjoy! xxx
Chapter One
The Benedict Home, Wrickenridge
It was the twelfth of December. The foggy morning had lazily transformed into a cold and snowy evening, but the Benedict house was warmed by a large log fire, the Christmas decorations were up, the bright lights reflecting in the baubles on the tree. In the kitchen Karla was at the oven, stirring a spicy soup, one eye on the clock and the other on her youngest child, her daughter Anya, who had spent the day lying on the sofa watching cartoons because she was- as Anya put it- sicky and icky. From the living room where Anya lay, Karla could hear the low sound of the television playing Anya's favorite movie and the sleepy mumblings of her daughter as she sang along;
"You're a mean one… mister Grinch…you really are a heel… you're as cuddly as a cactus…you're as charming as an eel… Mister Grinch…"
Anya Benedict yawned and closed her eyes sleepily as the song continued, the bright colors from the television reflecting in the Christmas baubles on the tree. She drew the blanket closer around her, shivering despite the burning log fire. She yawned again and snuggled down, the sick feeling in her stomach lessening slightly as she breathed evenly. On the table beside her stood an empty glass, filled with the dregs of orange juice and a plate of half eaten toast. There were footsteps and her mother entered the room, a fresh glass of orange juice in one hand and the thermometer in the other. Anya opened her mouth obediently as Karla stuck the thermometer under her tongue and watched as she cleared the table and replaced the empty glass with the fresh one. Karla straightened Anya's blanket and held a warm hand to her daughter's forehead. She smiled softly and kissed her cheek. "I'll get your daddy to look at you when he gets home honey," she said quietly, "I don't like the feel of that forehead of yours."
"Am I sick momma?" Anya's soprano voice was hoarse and crackly. Karla smoothed down her daughter's curls and took the thermometer back. Even at nine years old, she was the spitting image of her mother with long black curls and wide brown eyes, that delicate slender figure and a mass of brown freckles.
"I'm afraid so sweetie." She stood and picked up the empty glass of orange juice. "No school for you tomorrow." Anya smiled feebly and flopped back down onto the sofa. Karla tucked the blanket around her again, kissed her forehead and stood. "I'm going to do dinner; you think you'll be able to eat something?"
"I'll try momma."
"That's my girl. Call if you need anything okay baby?"
"Momma!" Anya called quickly and Karla turned around, an amused expression on her face. "Yes darling?"
"When's daddy coming home?"
The front door slammed, followed by the sound of boots on wood, keys on the counter, and coat on a chair. "Daddy's home baby!" Saul appeared in the doorway. "How're my princesses?"
"Daddy!" Anya tried to squeal but she ended up coughing. Karla was at her side instantly, rubbing her back and handing her the orange juice. Saul quickly crossed the room, one hand on his wife's knee, the other on Anya's forehead.
"She's feverish," he murmured, looking up at Karla who nodded her eyes full of concern. His hand reached Karla's cheek and she covered it with her own, linking their fingers. I love you, she mouthed. He kissed her gently. I love you to, was his reply. Karla stood and ruffled Anya's curls.
"I'd best getter dinner going; else the boys will be snacking on junk as soon as they get home." As Karla disappeared into the kitchen, Saul gently lifted his daughter into his arms and sat down with her on his lap. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a Hershey's Bar. He handed it to Anya who smiled.
"Don't tell your momma," he whispered.
"Don't think I didn't see you doing that Saul," came Karla's call from the kitchen. Anya giggled as her mother came back into the room and held out her hand. Reluctantly, Anya handed the bar over. "You can have it after dinner sweetheart okay?"
"Yes momma," Anya said, snuggling against her father.
"Why don't you tell your daddy what you put in your letter to Santa?" Karla suggested, pausing the Grinch and smiling as her daughter reached for the crumpled yellow envelope covered in red crayon and glittery stickers.
As Anya opened the letter, Saul's heart sank. There was only one thing on her list; Brianna Ballerina. A walking, talking, singing doll that Anya had been talking about since Sadie McCrea had brought hers in at school for Show 'n' Tell just before the holidays, and had thrown Anya's own old doll in the pond, where it had never been recovered. Anya had first set her eyes on Brianna Ballerina when her eldest brother Trace had taken her to see the shop window in Toys R Us for a treat and she had fallen in love with the doll, her large blue eyes and soft blonde ringlets and velvet pink tutu; it all made her shiver with glee when she imagined all the games they could play together. Sadly, her old doll, Lucy-May had paled in comparison to Brianna Ballerina, and the games they used to play never felt real anymore. Since the Sadie incident, Anya was of the opinion that Sadie throwing Amelia's old doll away hadn't been such a bad thing, especially if now she could have Brianna Ballerina for Christmas.
Saul smiled as Anya chattered and kissed the top of her head. Saul was remarkably disappointed in himself; money was tight these days, what with a lack of customers and cases, he knew how desperately she wanted that doll and it killed him inside knowing he couldn't give his daughter what she wanted, especially at Christmas. Saul looked at the happiness on his daughters face and wondered briefly if another job wouldn't hurt; he was on friendly terms with Duke, the owner of the local Wrickenridge garage, and he knew how to fix cars with his eyes shut, Duke might help him out for while.
"What do you think daddy? Do you think Santa will bring me my doll?" Anya looked up at him earnestly and for a moment Saul thought he would crack.
"I think Santa will do his best darling. Let me get a coffee and we'll watch the end of Grinch before your brothers get home, 'kay doll?" Anya nodded and Saul quickly crossed into the kitchen, where Karla was chopping vegetables and flicked the switch on the kettle.
"You okay?" Karla asked quietly, looking up at her husband briefly.
"I need another job, either that or a case." He said quietly and Karla stopped chopping.
"Saul, darling don't be ridiculous, you're hardly ever at home as it is."
"She wants that doll, Karla, don't tell me she hasn't tried to talk to you about it, because I know she has. She's been hinting and pointing for months." He ran his hand through his hair and Karla took his hands.
"Those dolls are at least a hundred and twenty dollars each; we can't afford that!" she hissed and Saul took her shoulders.
"If I got another job-"
"If-if," Karla cupped his cheeks, "darling there are no jobs, besides you'd be a fool to try, God knows I'd rather have my husband healthy than my daughter fussing over a new doll!"
"Karla-"
"She's nine! She'll have grown out of it in a few years and then what? It would all have been a waste." Saul frowned and Karla kissed his cheek gently. "Honestly darling, taking on extra work wouldn't be worth it."
"Have you looked?" Saul asked and Karla looked down, biting her lip. "You did, didn't you?"
"I was just checking-"
"Did I get another job?" Reluctantly, Karla nodded. Saul grinned. "Did she get the doll, in the end?" Again, Karla nodded. "Excellent, I'll be down at Duke's tomorrow."
FBI Headquarters, Denver
"Benedict! Jameson!" Lieutenant Crabb's voice carried across the room and Victor Benedict rolled his eyes at his partner Emily Jameson. "My office! Now!" Victor kicked the bottom draw of his desk shut, regretting not eating his sandwich there and then, as his stomach growled. They had just shut down a case, paperwork complete and handed in; Victor was looking forward to a meal at home with his parents for once instead of on his own at his apartment. Emily sighed, longingly looking at the pot of chilled pasta and dropped her gun on the desk. Zig-zagging between desks, the pair made their way to Crabb's office. They were an odd pair; Victor towered over Emily at six foot three, his emotionless face and sharp suit making in an intimidating match to the smaller, more cheery brunette. The office was a warzone of paper files, framed certificates and a rickety desk, behind which sat Lieutenant Crabb; a formidable man of at least sixty five, narrow eyes and mind and with a bulging beer gut, he was three hamburgers away from a heart attack.
"Okay team, batter up." He said firmly, despite only Victor, Emily and himself being in the room. "New case for you two." He thrusted a large file at Victor who took it quickly, silently thinking of every curse word in the book as the thoughts of his mom's lasagne were chased out of his mind with the 'case mode' setting his brain took on.
"This case was closed thirty five years ago," Emily said surprised. Victor looked up at Crabb. "The accused was Wallace Newberry, case never went to trial due to a witness refusing to give an official statement, Newberry got off and disappeared- what is this Crabb?"
"We're re-opening the case." He said firmly. "I want it solved and the guy behind bars. Do whatever you have to do to find this guy."
"Why?" Emily asked and Victor frowned as he scanned through the case; he'd read it properly later.
Crabb grunted and took a large bite of his doughnut. Victor's mouth watered. "The guy is wanted for another crime. You two are my best guys so I'm putting you on it. Solve it, get the report off to Mexico and we're done with it for good."
"Mexico?" Victor and Emily exclaimed at the same time.
"The guy was from America, murders took place in Mexico- look; just solve the damn case, please? Now get lost, the pair of you. I don't want to see you until tomorrow morning." Crabb took another bite of his doughnut and waved them away with a sugar coated hand.
"I'll look over the case tonight," Victor said once the office door was shut behind them. "See what needs to be done."
Emily nodded. "Okay, I'll look over this Wallace Newberry guy, see what I can dig up." She picked up her pasta and began to pack up her things. Victor, with laptop in one hand and case in the other, mumbled a good bye to Emily and made his way out of the building, resisting the urge to run to his car.
Victor drove to his parent's home quickly; driving at a speed his mother would have fainted at and managed to avoid all the rush hour traffic. Coming up to the house he could hear the noise inside; everyone seemed to be home for dinner; all his brothers, both parents and his one and only treasure; his little sister Anya, who had spent the day home from school because she was sick. The kitchen was a ruckus of loud noise and organised chaos. Zed and Yves were arguing over laying the table, while Xav was sneakily dipping his finger in the soup his mother had cooked. Uriel was calmly unpacking groceries Karla had obviously persuaded him to pick up on his way home from college and Will was precariously balancing a pile of plates on his head. Trace and his father were by the doorway into the living room, beers in either hand, in an easy going discussion over the ski lift.
"Victor, darling, it's wonderful to see you." Karla quickly darted into view and they hugged tightly. "Honestly, it gets so quiet without you all here these days; it's just a bit overwhelming when I suddenly have to cook for ten!"
Victor laughed and kissed his mom's cheek. "I miss you too mom, what's for dinner?"
"Oh you know, a mixture of everything really-" she teased a glint in her eye.
"Lasagne?" he questioned.
"Lasagne darling," she repeated, kissing his cheek. He grinned.
"Where's my baby sister?"
"Oh, she's sleeping darling, try not to wake her up. Go and say hello to your father, dear, then you can say hello to your sister when I wake her up for dinner." His mother smiled gently, patted his cheek and disappeared into the crown, yelling at Xav for tasting the soup. Victor shook his head and made his way towards Uriel and Will, nodding at them as he past them. His father was laughing at a joke told by Trace.
"Hey dad, Trace," Victor said, interrupting the laughing and Trace clapped him on the shoulder.
"Congrats bro, on the Jackson case, nice one there; must be a record for FBI's finest?" Trace teased his younger brother with ease, knowing full well Victor was uncomfortable with the attention he had received from the media about the case.
"Yeah, yeah," Victor responded. Trace grinned and downed the last of his beer.
"I'm getting another, you want one Vick?"
"Cheers Trace," Victor waited until Trace had fully moved away and hugged his dad tightly.
"I'm so proud of you son," Saul told him warmly and Vick grinned. "You did well. How are you doing?"
"I'm doing great dad," Victor paused and Saul raised his eyebrows. "Can you do me a favour? Don't tell mom-"
"Don't tell your mom what?" asked his mother from behind him. Vick rolled his eyes and Saul reached out and took Karla's free hand, pulling her to him. Victor's parents kissed softly.
"Nothing for you to worry about darlin'," Saul told her gently and Karla narrowed her eyes at him.
"What are you hiding?" she questioned and Saul smirked, dipping his finger into the soup. "This is good stuff-"
"Ay-ay-ay," Karla batted his hand away as he reached out for more. "This is for your daughter, who, might I remind you, is still feverish and unless you want her to go hungry, I suggest you, stop-" she batted Saul's hand away again- "eating her dinner."
Saul chuckled and stroked her cheek with his finger. "Go play nurse then darlin'." He waited until Karla was out of earshot and turned back to his third eldest son. "Go on then Vick, what do you want me to keep from my wife this time?"
"Anya's Christmas present," he held up his hand as Saul opened his mouth. "Hear me out, she's wanted it for a long time and-"
"Brianna Ballerina?" Saul guessed.
"You're kidding?" Trace said, returning with two cold beers in either hand. "I've got her exactly the same thing!" Vick cursed and Saul frowned slightly. "You're telling me that baby sister is ending up with three of exactly the same doll?"
"Four actually…" Yves added rather sheepishly as he joined the three. "Zed, Xav and I chipped together."
The group turned to look at Uriel and Will. "You don't think…" Saul began. Yves shook his head.
"They'd better not have." Trace said grimly, "else there'll be hell to pay when mom finds out."
The men clinked their beers together and drank quickly.
Dinner came much more quickly after Karla had fed Anya. The table was laid, the dishes laid out next to the oven and all the Benedict boys were seated at the table, while their parents dished out lasagne. From the dining room they could hear the flirting of their parents, an act which grossed them out and led to them very loudly discussing any topic they could get their hands on.
"So Vick," Uriel began, "how's work now our FBI prodigy has returned to land of the peasants?"
"Ha ha Uri," Victor responded dryly as his father paced dishes on the table, "no, it's good, I have a new case; a murder one that was solved but never put to trial."
"How come?" Yves asked, passing a plate down to Zed.
"We have, my brothers, a missing witness." Vick said, shaking his head. "Witness calls police and disappear around the same time as the killer, nothing about him or her on any database."
"And it never went to trial because…" Zed encouraged his brother to continue through a mouthful of lasagne.
"Witness was never found, not enough evidence."
"What was the killer's name?" That was Trace.
"Wallace Newberry-"
There was a shatter from the kitchen and Saul spun around immediately. "Karla?" he called, "you okay sweetheart?"
"I'm fine," came the response, although her voice was shaky, with a steely edge to it. Karla appeared in the doorway. She looked shaken, her hands trembling. "I thought I saw something at the window, it made me jump, I dropped a glass." Her husband took her arms, turning her wrists over in his long fingers, concern washing over his face. "I was being silly-"
"You saw something at the window?" he questioned and Karla pulled her hands out of his and gave a weak smile.
"Like I said, Saul, I was being silly." She turned to her sons and ruffled Xav's hair. "I was being silly." She insisted and murmured a thank you to Saul as he helped her into her seat. "Now, boys, no more business at the table, and please try to keep the noise down, I've just settled your sister into bed."
4 Tarrow Street, Denver
Ridley Waters tapped her long black nails onto the elongated dining table in a languid fashion as the four men in front of her maintained a loud conversation about sex. She sighed, bored and pouted as she eyed the large glass of red wine in front of her. She was not a woman to be messed with; dark, heavily shadowed eyes; a mixture of bad make up and lack of sleep, large breasts, tall- even sitting- at the head of the table and a voice that was as sharp and as steely as a knife. She cocked her head and looked around at her fellow men and eyed them all in turn; Igor Lagunov, Russian alcoholic in denial and ex drug dealer; Alf Benson, ugliest fuck imaginable- even his mother sold him for a bottle of gin; Farley Muskett, excellent gunman, well known serial killer gone under thanks to the goddamn FBI and finally Drake Jett; her lover, never seen without his trademark dagger, still stained with the blood of his victims. Together, they made a formidable team, and that was just what Ridley needed. Reaching into her lap and drawing out a shotgun, she fired into the ceiling to make them shut up. Silence fell, all eyes were on her.
"Let's…wind the clocks back thirty nine years," she began, twirling her finger in the air. "You were all at the top of your game; the FBI wouldn't have dared to have touched you." She paused and threw her gun on the ground. "What changed huh? Anyone like to take a guess? Anyone?" Silence again. It irritated her and her pout changed into a thin line. She sighed and continued; "Karla Benedict happened, my friends. The only live witness to a mass murder of seven people and in return for her and her soulfinder's safety, she struck a deal with the devil."
She laughed and stood. Slowly making her way around the table she began to talk in a low voice. "My father, masquerading as Wallace Newberry, was the devil she struck a deal with and she is about to break that vow my friends. Which means… we need to pay her a little visit. If you honor the friendship and loyalty you once had with my father, then I beg of you, please help me with my crusade, help me bring justice to my good father's name and in return I'll help you bring the Benedict's down. They have all ruined and wrecked your lives yes? Killed you partners, your loved ones yes? Well now we take a stand. We will rip them apart from the very inside-" she stopped and slammed a picture down on the table, "-starting with the youngest Benedict."
Alf, Igor and Farley laughed and yelled their agreement, while Drake stood and stabbed his dagger through the picture of Anya Benedict.