By the Dawn's Early Light

A/N: I appreciate your reviews and alerts. Thank you.

Spoilers: References to "Arrow of Time"

Chapter 2:

Four months later

Monday, 7:30 a.m.

As Don pulled into the driveway of the Craftsman he felt a twinge of disappointment. He had fully expected to see his brother's Prius parked out front but the only car in view belonged to his father. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his Dad it was just that he needed some one-on- one time with Charlie and although a late night conversation with Alan the previous evening had led him to believe that his brother would still be at home this morning, the absence of his car was proving otherwise.

With a sigh Don turned off the ignition and clamored out of the SUV pausing just long enough to arch his back and stretch a few sore muscles that he had acquired during a recent ski trip. He strode forward but veered to the right at the front steps to take a small path that led to the garage. Of course, you couldn't really call it a garage anymore; it had been transformed into a guest house or as Charlie liked to call it, his Dad's "man cave".

During the six month period that Charlie and Amita had been in England the old garage had been converted into a very comfortable home for Alan, complete with a nice sized bedroom a modern bath with a walk-in shower and a medium-sized kitchen with a small breakfast nook. But Alan's pride and joy was a family room large enough to hold a 60 inch plasma TV, a small couch and two well-stuffed recliners. A large bay window had been installed in the family room providing Alan with a panoramic view of the picturesque back yard while his kitchen and bedroom windows faced the driveway. They had kept the structure attached to the main house and used the connecting room as a shared laundry room with entrances from both houses.

Don grinned as he approached the front door; you really couldn't tell that the old building had once been a garage and more importantly, Alan loved it, it kept him close to his family and still gave him the freedom of living on his own. Charlie and Amita insisted that the main house was still Alan's home as well and in the month since they had returned from Cambridge the three of them had settled into a very happy and comfortable living arrangement. Don still visited on a regular basis and he never knew which house he was going to find them in; one day Charlie would be sitting with Alan in his house grading papers while his Dad worked a Sudoku puzzle and the next day they would be in the family room of the Craftsman doing exactly the same thing. He had come to realize that what Charlie had said the night before he left for England was true; the more things changed, the more they stayed the same, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Dad?" he called out as he closed the front door behind him.

A muffled "In the kitchen Donnie" answered his question and he paused just long enough to drape his suit jacket over one of the chairs before pushing open the kitchen door.

"Hey Dad."

Alan turned around and smiled broadly at his oldest son. "Just in time," he said shoving two plates of pancakes at him, "take these and I'll bring the coffee."

"Ah….sure." He said, turning sideways to push the door open with his shoulder. Alan followed closely behind him and soon they were both enjoying a hearty breakfast.

"I thought Charlie was going to be here." Don commented while pouring more syrup over his pancakes.

Alan had just taken a sip of coffee and had to swallow before he was able to answer. "He was but late last night he got a call from a fellow math professor who had to go out of town for a family emergency and he asked Charlie to cover his classes for him this week." He peered at him over his coffee cup and added. "If you're trying to find him to work on a case you may have trouble catching him between classes."

Don paused with his fork halfway to his mouth; a guilty expression crossing his features. "I don't always come over to see him just because I have a case Dad."

This time it was Alan's fork that hovered in mid air as he peered over the rim of his glasses at his son. "I didn't say that you did. What's up?"

Don's voice took on a defensive tone. "Nothing, it's just that I haven't seen him very much since the Henderson case, that's all."

"That's not surprising since you and Robin took that little impromptu vacation right after the man was arrested." He set his fork down and leaned forward. "So what's really going on?"

"Nothing." Don repeated again, deliberately taking a large bite of pancakes. In truth he was hoping to mend the rift that had grown between the brothers during the case but he wasn't ready to discuss it with his father.

"Very well." Alan harrumphed before taking another sip of coffee. "I'll let it go until you're ready to talk about it. In the meantime why don't you tell me about your trip? How was Tahoe?"

Don swallowed and took a sip of his own coffee. "The slopes were just perfect and Robin is a great skier. They have some new trails Dad, you'd enjoy them too." He answered eagerly, relieved to change the subject.

"The resorts up there always take good care of their trails. Where did you and Robin stay?"

Don relaxed and stretched out his legs. "Alpine Meadows."

"Alpine Meadows." Alan smiled sadly. "Now there is a place that I haven't visited in years. Your mother and I always liked that one too."

Don tilted his head in dismay noting his father's sudden melancholy. "I'm sorry Dad, I….I didn't mean to bring up old memories."

"Don't be sorry." Alan said quickly, pretending to adjust his glasses as he superetiously wiped at a stray tear. "Just because your mother is no longer with us doesn't mean that we stop thinking about her. The memories of the things that we did together will always keep her close to us so don't ever be sorry about that. We had some good times….joyful memories that we shouldn't forget."

Don smiled fondly at his father; he really was the wisest man that he had ever known. "We took a side trip to Vegas on the way back and took in a few shows." He said, hoping to lighten Alan's mood a little.

"Well, I won't ask you how much you won because I'm sure I would have heard about that already." Alan retorted with a grin.

"We didn't really spend a lot of time at the casinos. " Don mumbled and lifted his coffee cup.

"Oh." Alan said with a chuckle, watching the color rise in his son's cheeks.

Don grinned at the bemused look on Alan's face and shook his head softly; it never ceased to amaze him that his father could still make him feel like he was sixteen years old and just coming home from his first date. He cleared his throat and changed the subject.

"Don't you have to work today Dad?"

"No." Alan replied with a knowing smile, well aware of Don's tactics. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "I took a vacation day so that Art and I could try out that new golf course in Ventura. You know the one I mean? The Lost Canyon Golf Course?"

"Matt golfed there a few weeks ago; he said the sixteenth hole is really a tough one." Don answered with a nod of his head.

The agent's phone rang and he gave his father an apologetic look as he pulled it from his pocket and flipped it open.

"Eppes…yeah…hold on." He reached over and pulled a small notebook and pen from his jacket pocket. "Go ahead." Don said and proceeded to write an address on the paper. "Got it. Yeah, I'm on my way." He ended the call and clipped the phone to his belt; as he stood up he started to pick up his plate and cup. "Sorry Dad, I gotta go. Thanks for the breakfast."

Alan waved his hand dismissively at the dishes. "I'll take care of that Donnie. You just be careful out there." He added putting an emphasis on the word careful; the truth was his son's job terrified him, even more so since Don had barely survived an attack the year before and he wasn't sure if he could handle another close call like that one.

With a quick nod of his head Don grabbed his jacket and strode across the room "Hey, " he said, looking over his shoulder as he opened the door. "Don't forget what I said about the sixteenth hole."

"I'll take it under advisement." Alan replied with a grin and added. "I still want to hear about Vegas."

Don had already put on his sunglasses but he pulled them down and peered over the top of them as he spoke. "No problem just let me know when the steaks are ready and I'll give you the full story."

"Deal." Alan called out as Don hurried out the door. His gaze dropped to the table and after a glance at his watch he began to quickly gather up the dishes.

oooooooooooooooooooo

8:15 a.m. CalSci

Charlie shifted his weight around and propped one foot up on the edge of the coffee table so that he could rest the clipboard on his knee; the leather couch was extremely comfortable and he would often sit there as he worked. The young professor had felt a little intimidated when he had first moved in to the prestigious office but it hadn't taken him very long to become adjusted to it and now he felt completely at home.

He had arranged for Larry to use his office while he was away but the physicist had moved to a much smaller room upon his return; a fact that his friend had complained about on more than one occasion.

Charlie rubbed his upper lip thoughtfully as he compared his own schedule with that of Professor Hartwell's. He was relieved to discover that he had no conflicting classes and that Hartwell's classes also managed to fall between two seminars and his "Class for non-mathematicians" that were also scheduled for the week.

The young professor sighed and closed his eyes as he leaned his head back against the soft leather couch; he was going to have to put in some long hours this week but he could do it. His eyes popped opened suddenly at the sound of his door opening and he twisted around to see who had just walked in without knocking. Charlie's face broke into a smile as Amita came into the room juggling two cups of coffee and her bag. The young woman nudged the door closed with the heel of her shoe and dropped her bag on the table next to the sofa. She sat down on the couch and slid closer to him and held out one of the Styrofoam cups.

Amita arched an eyebrow and asked teasingly. "Professor Eppes wasn't sleeping was he?"

"Just resting my eyes." He replied; taking the cup with one hand and pulling her close with the other. "Thanks." He said softly when their lips parted a few moments later.

Her eyes lit up mischievously. "For the kiss or the coffee?"

"Both." He chuckled; snatching another kiss before she was able to pull back from his embrace.

Amita picked up the clipboard and frowned as she studied his schedule. "You're not going to get much rest this week; maybe you should try to re-schedule one of these seminars."

Charlie shook his head. "Don't worry, I can handle it. All of my work is finished for them so it's just a matter of doing the presentations and this is the first non-math class I've had a chance to give since we got back so I don't want to cancel it; a lot of people really look forward to it."

"Is there anything that I can help you with?"

"Thanks for asking but I've got it covered. Besides, you've only got three days to get your Combinatorics presentation ready." He set his cup down and pulled her into his arms. "I'm going to miss you while you're away." He held her at arm's length and searched her dark eyes. "I'm not sure that I can survive for two days without you around."

"I'm going to miss you too." She whispered, embracing him tightly. "It's a short flight to San Francisco; you could join me on Saturday. Berkeley is hosting a dinner party for the key speakers on Saturday night, I'm sure they wouldn't mind if I brought a guest to the party." She smiled suddenly and added. "Especially if that guest turned out to be Dr. Charles Edward Eppes."

"No." Charlie said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "This is your show, not mine. You should be the center of attention, not me."

"That's a sweet thing to say Charlie." She replied with a kiss. "Do you realize that this will be the first time that we have been apart since we were married?"

"I know." He said thickly and pulled back. "But we don't have to deal with that until Thursday and you'll only be gone for a couple of days."

"Right." She said, forcing a smile.

"I've only got fifteen minutes before my first class. " Charlie said with a glance at his watch. "I better get my things together." He stood up and gathered his papers and carried them over to his desk.

"Charlie have you had a chance to talk with Don since he and Robin returned?" Amita asked as she followed him to the desk. Something had happened between the brother's and Charlie had refused to talk about it so she had hoped that when Don returned they would work out their issues.

"Ah….no." He answered with a vigorous shake of his head and a brief smile as he continued to shove papers into his bag.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked in a concerned voice.

Charlie shrugged and ducked his head; when he met her eyes again she was surprised by the hurt and loss reflected in them. Amita hurried around the desk and grabbed his hand.

"Charlie please….tell me what's wrong."

"It's just that I thought we were good…you know? When we came back everything just seemed to fall into place and he actually started treating me more like one of the team, a partner just like the rest of the guys." He sat down on the edge of his desk and ducked his head. "But then the Henderson case came along and it was like the Buck Winters thing all over again. He avoided me, wouldn't answer my calls and pushed me away when I did see him, unless I had information on the case he wouldn't even talk to me. He didn't even tell me that Henderson had a personal vendetta against him until I confronted him with the fact that my analysis pointed out that the man was coming after him. I found out later that Don had even ordered the rest of the team not to let me in on that part of the investigation." He lifted his hands up in a helpless motion. "That was valuable data that was missing from my analysis Amita. Had I known we might have been able to catch the man sooner."

Amita ran a comforting hand across his shoulders. "I'm sure that Don had his reasons for doing that Charlie. Didn't he explain it later?"

"I didn't get a chance to talk to him; he and Robin took off right after the case was closed. Dad said they came back last night but I haven't talked to him yet. Sometimes I just get the feeling that I'm just another resource to be used just so he can get the job done."

"Oh, Charlie." She said cupping his face in her hands. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

He searched her eyes and shook his head softly. "I don't know…lately I've been thinking that maybe we should just stick to teaching. You have to admit that while we were at Cambridge it was nice to immerse ourselves in the ivory towers of academia."

She grinned and shook her head. "It was nice but don't forget we did consult on those two cases for Scotland Yard."

Charlie returned her grin, his eyes lighting up. "Yeah, that was sort of cool." He gave an exaggerated sigh. "I guess we're just two hopeless crime scene junkies, huh?"

Amita giggled. "You better make that three, Larry's just as hooked as we are." Her eyes widened as she glanced at her watch. "I've got to get going and so do you." She gave him a brief kiss and then hurriedly gathered up her things.

Charlie gave his desk a quick glance then grabbed his own bag and headed for the door but stopped by the table just long enough to pick up his coffee cup.

They left the office at a run and were soon lost in the throng of students and Professors as everyone rushed to their classes to begin another routine day at CalSci.

oooooooooooooooooooo

9:oo a.m.

The morning sun normally brought a feeling of warmth with it but the inhabitants of Castlello Place, a small residential community in suburban Los Angeles, felt only chills as they watched the police enter the home of their neighbor. Located at the end of a cul de sac the sprawling ranch style home was easily the largest house on the block but today that wasn't the reason it was drawing everyone's attention.

Residents were milling together in groups and speaking in hushed tones as they watched yet another vehicle join the congregation of LAPD patrol cars and unmarked police vehicles. Their conversations suddenly increased in volume when the driver exited the black SUV wearing a jacket emblazoned with the letters "FBI". Stunned by the latest arrival all heads swiveled in the direction of the agent and followed his movements as he ducked under the yellow crime tape and hurried across the threshold of the open doorway.

Just inside the foyer Don removed his glasses and scanned the multitude of blue uniforms that were wandering through the room; it didn't take him long to find a familiar face but he had to hurry to catch up to the man as he moved through the house.

"Hey Fred." Don called out as he caught up to the officer.

Sgt. Frederick Doyle, a fifteen year veteran of the Los Angeles Police Department turned when he heard his name but was surprised to discover who the caller was. "Agent Eppes? I didn't expect to see you right away; figured one of your team would be here first." He paused for a moment as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "Speaking of your team, I heard that David Sinclair is back in L.A."

"You heard right." Don answered with a slight smile. "David is back on the team and to answer your first question I was closest to the neighborhood so show me what you've got."

"This way." Fred said with a wave of his hand and started forward once again. "We found the victim's body in her office…..in the back of the house. The room looks like it's some kind of office and studio workshop combination."

As they entered the room Don paused to take a few minutes to look over the scene. The body of a young woman was lying on the floor beside a desk at the back of the room. An opened laptop sat in the middle of the desk surrounded by papers and books and there were more papers and some magazines scattered about the floor. Two blank whiteboards stood behind the desk but if you looked closely you could see a stray number or letter amid the smear of ink where someone had hastily erased them.

Don moved further into the room and carefully sidestepped the pool of blood around the woman's head as he went to one knee beside of the body.

"Who was she?" He asked softly.

"Dr. Alicia Brogan." Fred replied stepping to the other side of the body.

Don silently studied the victim; she was lying on her side, arms bound behind her back by a piece of rope. She was barefoot and dressed in a tee shirt and a pair of loose jogging shorts; a lock of her shoulder length brown hair had fallen over her face. He pulled a pair of plastic gloves from his pocket and slipped them on so he could push her hair aside momentarily to get a good look at her face. With a sigh he let her hair fall back in place and studied the rest of her body; his brow furrowed in puzzlement when his eyes settled on her legs; they were striped with horizontal dark bruises from her ankles up to her shorts.

"What do you make of these?" he asked without looking up.

Fred tucked his fingers in his belt and shook his head. "It looks to me like she was beaten with something but we haven't found anything here that would make those type of marks on a person. Whoever did this gave her a beating first and then finished her off with a single gunshot to the back of the head. Of course, the coroner might find something else."

The agent suppressed a sigh, he should be used to this by now, but the innocent victims still got to him. The untimely deaths of gang-bangers, drug dealers and criminals he could process without a blink of an eye but deaths of the people that he had sworn to protect always found a way through his armor. Still, it was his job, so he shoved his feelings aside and forced himself to become "detached"; that was the word his brother had once used to describe the agent's way of dealing with this aspect of his job.

"Murder may not have been the motive...she might have stumbled into a burglary." Don muttered as he gazed around the room. "Why did you call us?" he asked as he rose to his feet.

"The victim worked for the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena." The officer replied.

"Just because she worked for JPL doesn't automatically make this an FBI case. What type of work did she do?" Don still wasn't convinced that her murder warranted FBI involvement.

Fred consulted his notes again. "She was an Orbit and Trajectory Analyst but we called you after speaking with her boyfriend. Dr. Jenson Ackerman, he also works at JPL. According to him Dr. Brogan was currently doing some consulting work for the Dept of Defense."

"D.O.D huh?" Don said as he turned and scanned the people in the room. "Is Ackerman here?"

"No sir." The officer shook his head. "He's in Albuquerque doing research for NASA at the White Sands Missile Range. He sounded pretty broken up about it and is catching the first flight back."

"Okay Fred, clear everybody out. We'll take it from here." Don said briskly as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket; it looked like this was an FBI case after all.

TBC