Shop With A Cop

By AJB

Part Four

Ezra Standish could not feel his fingers anymore. His eye stung, his shoulder throbbed, and he generally ached all over, but the state of his custom tailored suit trousers and silk shirt is what hurt the most. Yes, he knew there was a chance he could die this day, and he damned the individual that would be responsible for his being an untidy corpse.

He chuckled at the audacity of his thoughts and then gasped when pain's daggers dug its steely knives deeper into his temples. He slammed his eyes - eye - shut and stilled, riding the sharp sensation to its lowest level. He released a hissing breath.

"Courage, Ezra," he muttered softly. "At least the cretin placed the jacket aside." He turned a bleary eye its direction and his heart stuttered when he saw the same small boy from before standing wide-eyed and silent in the doorway. "Oh! Hello again. Master Vin, wasn't it?" Hope raised its glorious head and Standish's brain kicked into gear. He schooled is expression into one of friendliness, wondering how he actually appeared to the child.

They studied each other for long seconds, Vin as still as a statue and Ezra trying not to appear desperate.

"I need help," Vin finally said.

"I can help you," Ezra replied, cringing inside at the speed of his offer. "I mean, I would truly like to help you, but as you can see, my movement is limited at the moment." Ezra wiggled his fat, tingling fingers.

The boy tipped his head as if in thought and then broke eye contact to study Ezra from head to toe.

"Although it is wise to examine this situation closely, my young man, I must remind you that our time may be limited. Perhaps the knife on the table will suffice in cutting these bonds?" Standish lifted his chin to indicate the location of an item.

Vin glanced at the tabletop then raised the hand that gripped Chris' knife.

"Good Lord, is that blood?" Standish choked, heart suddenly racing. The boy's fist and the frightening, serrated knife were shiny red. Vin walked toward him and an unwelcome vision of Norman Bates, Janet Leigh and a shower flew through his mind. "Mr. Tanner! What are your intentions?" Ezra managed to press back into the sturdy chair as far as he could and squared his shoulders.

Vin stopped, clearly puzzled, and then glanced to the knife. "I'm cuttin' you loose." Then, he turned his eyes to the captive and that's when Ezra saw fear in the boy's eyes. "Will you help me? If I cut you loose?"

Standish's body relaxed as he released a relieved breath. "Certainly, my boy, but you better hurry . . ."

"That other man won't be back," Vin said in an odd, flat way as he approached Ezra and started sawing on the tape holding Ezra's left hand.

Standish saw that Vin's eyes swam with banked tears. The kid was on an emotional edge.

"Is that so?" Ezra kept his voice low to keep from spooking his only chance of release. He paused, weighing the wisdom of his next question. "Did you - use the knife on him?"

Unkempt locks swept back and forth when Vin shook his head, his eyes locked on his task. "No," he whispered in a raspy voice. "Chris did."

"I see." The Neanderthal that brought me here was Wilmont. Wherever did this Chris come from? Or this boy, for that matter?

Standish twisted his wrist from the cut duct tape and he hissed after losing a large patch of arm hair. Vin stepped back and froze, and then huge ocean blue eyes snapped to Ezra's face.

"Don't go! I apologize. I did not expect . . . well, it hurt a little but I am all right." This child is rather skittish. I must be careful. Ezra smiled. "I did not mean to scare you. I apologize."

Their gazes held for a quiet span of time and Standish saw the wheels begin to turn behind a pair of eyes that seemed older than they should be. Ezra maintained a mild expression, not allowing the shock of recognition to show on his features; He'd seen the same shadow of maturity in his own eyes at a much younger age. A sympathetic smile came easier than he thought it would.

"Shall we finish this dance, young sir, so I may reconnoiter the situation outside?"

Vin blinked, breaking the spell, and frowned. "What?"

Ezra chuckled. "If you would please free me, I will see what is going on outside."

"Oh." Vin stepped forward again and position the blade on Ezra's the other wrist.

Standish hesitated a moment, then slowly reached his free hand over and took the knife handle between his fingers just in front of Vin's. "Let me. I do not want you injured." Vin released the knife after a second and took a step back, absently wiping his bloody hand on his jeans and leaving a dark spot behind.

"Sergeant Larabee's hurt," Vin said. His raw voice trembled a little.

Luckily, Standish's attention was on his wrist at the time and Vin didn't see the flash of surprise that Ezra felt. Good Lord, a law enforcement officer is out there? I am forced from the frying pan into the fire thanks to you, Mother! He continued sawing at the tape as his mind calculated and plotted. "So, young man, why aren't other officers helping this Sergeant? Surely, they know where he . . . you are."

"We fell in the river. Chris saved me."

Those unnerving eyes swelled again with tears and Ezra had to give the boy points for not allowing them to fall. He swallowed back a rise of feeling for the child, silently chastising himself for the weakness of emotion and, instead, concentrated on cutting through the tape. It was loose now, and he rolled his wrist from the silver strip, moving a little slower this time. He silently gritted his teeth with the slow rip of pain from the crude depilatory.

Releasing his legs was painless, save for the hurt of seeing decent trousers fouled in such an obscene manner. Once free, Ezra rose slowly, feeling every ache, pain, and bruise inflicted on his body. He refused to groan.

Vin watched him with growing caution clear in his body language. It was extremely distracting for Standish to focus on an escape plan under the child's continued examination; he had no doubt that the diminutive Tanner was a learned observer, just as he was. Ezra knew he had to control his every expression.

With a final stretch, Standish allowed a groan to escape, and mentally patted his own back when he saw Vin's eyes lose some of their wary edge.

"Well, then," Ezra said as he shuffled forward. "Let us evaluate the situation, shall we?"

"Chris needs help."

"Yes, you said that." And I need to separate myself from this entire situation. "Lead on, Master Tanner."

With one last head tilted glance, Vin turned and headed to the door, disappearing outside. Once out of sight, Ezra quickly headed to the sink and snatched a small derringer from where his kidnapper had tossed it away, and tucked it in his jacket pocket. Then he lifted the coat, draped it over his arm with a loving stroke, and stepped, blinking, into the wild out-of-doors.

"Good Lord. What an ungodly time of day," he muttered as he followed his rescuer. When his eyes finally adjusted to the brightness, he saw that Vin waited for him at the first curve of a narrow path, impatience oozing from every pore. "I am coming, my good man. Have faith."

As he walked, or perhaps shuffled, in Vin's path, Ezra looked and listened. Everything smelled of recent rain and he moaned at the squishy feel of the earth under his Italian shoes as feeling tingled back into his feet. He also noticed the silence: No helicopters or calling searchers. He might make it out of here after all. It was still a debate if it would be with or without the Sergeant or the boy

When they rounded the last curve of the crude road, Standish was both delighted and appalled: He was happy a marked police unit wasn't in sight, but he loathed the idea another ride in the barbaric vehicle that got him here. This time, at least, he would not be bound and blindfolded. Spotting Wilmont propped against the rear wheel cut short his stilted joy.

"Oh my," he said, gulping back a sudden rise of bile. Flies hovered around cloudy, unseeing eyes drooped at half mast and the body slumped in a clearly lifeless style. Standish pressed the back of his hand against his lips and stopped, mesmerized.

"Over here," Vin said, worried, jerking Ezra's horrified stare from the dead man. He gathered scattered wits enough to note the small boy's wide berth around the body.

"Um, yes, coming, coming." Wavering, he followed the same path, averting his eyes. He hoped Sergeant Chris wasn't in the same state as Wilmont, but then he considered that maybe that would make things easier. No, Ezra. Dead policemen never make the situation better.

Vin crouched by a still body dressed in a uniform - mostly dressed, actually. What is that on his leg?

"His leg's broke," Vin said in eerie reply.

"I see." Standish edged closer and peered downward. "Interesting use of a ballistic vest. I am sure his leg is quite stable."

The Sergeant appeared pale, but his breathing was steady. Ezra slipped his coat on, comforted by the weight of the Beretta in the pocket, and then squatted down. Every joint made themselves known and he felt a wave of dizziness.

Larabee groaned and rolled his head aside. Vin gently patted his cheek. "Chris? Chris?"

Ezra felt the man's cheek with the back of his fingers, then felt for a pulse at his neck. "His heartbeat is strong and he appears to be in good condition, considering. Do you know where the vehicle keys are, Master Tanner?"

Vin shook his head. "That guy prolly has 'em."

"Oh, yes, indeed." Ezra straightened and stood, his desire to flee overriding his revulsion at the idea of searching a dead body. "Let me take a look, then."

He found the keys in Wilmont's front right pocket, precisely where Standish knew they would be. He started for the driver's side of the car and spied a cell phone on the ground. He picked it up and read the screen.

"That's his," Vin said, pointing to Wilmont.

"Indeed?" Did he make contact with Iovanni? Ezra quickly searched prior calls and his heart sank. Wilmont had made contact with Alonzo Iovanni less than an hour ago! I have to get out of here!

"I will get help. You stay here with Chris." Ezra started for the car again and made it two steps before the heavier-than-he-looked child latched onto his leg.

"No! We're coming with you!"

Standish lurched to a halt. "OOF!" He thought fast. "Vin, my boy, he needs a doctor. We can't risk moving him." As he spoke, he worked to peel the boy's fingers from his thighs.

"No!"

Damn it all to hell, is this child related to a limpet? Ezra picked, pulled and pushed with zero success, and when he tried to walk, the weight on his limb caused his foot to drag. "Master Tanner, stop this foolishness at once. Help will come here for him!"

"I don't believe you."

The statement was flat and held no doubt. Ezra looked down into a pair of stormy eyes. Vin Tanner's jaw was set and did not flinch when their gazes locked. There was no doubt the wiry kid read him precisely - there would be no fooling him. Their likeness in that respect made him pause; Ezra knew the circumstances that formed his own ability in this area and a wash of sorrow went out for the boy.

His Mother would be furious at the feeling. Then again, it was his Mother who got him into this fix to start with. He dragged his personal baggage another foot before giving up with a sign. "Fine. You win." Vin affixed him with a suspicious glare. Ezra rolled his eyes and brushed the boy off, this time successfully. Vin, however, stood firm with clenched fists and made it clear he was ready to launch another assault if necessary.

The thought to run passed quickly. Standish turned stiffly and reluctantly moved toward the uniformed body with Tanner in his wake.

Buck Wilmington looked out the window with anxious hope, but the cloud layer still rode too low on in the sky. The search, then, continued on foot. He tried not to think of the vast, treacherous area involved. If Chris and the boy did manage to get to shore, there was a small window of time left until night and the darkness loosened another kind of danger. Wolves, bears, wildcats - they were all out there.

He felt his charge shift in his arms. "Vin?" JD's sleepy whisper was hoarse with the promise of a cold.

"We're lookin' for him and Chris. Don't worry, we'll find 'em." Buck brushed back the mop of dark hair with his palm. "You hungry?"

As if on cue, the Ranger cabin door swung open and the woman from the shopping event slipped in with bags of food in her arms. "Officer Wilmington? I'm Nettie Wells. I believe we've met before."

"Yes, m'am, we sure have." He shifted the sleepy JD until he sat up. "Hey, Little Bit, I think I smell hot chocolate."

Mrs. Wells smiled. "You certainly do." She put the bags down and brought two covered cups over. "Along with coffee for you."

"Is there whipped cream?" JD asked as he took the cup.

"What's hot chocolate without whipped cream?" Nettie replied. After he took the cup, Nettie cupped his chin in her hand. "Hmm, you may have a fever, young man."

"I thought so, too." Buck carefully took a sip from his own cup and sighed. "Thanks. I needed this." He took another sip and tipped his head in the direction of the cabin door. "Anything new out there?"

"Not yet as far as I know."

"I want Vin." JD's voice was small, but his fear and disappointment was the biggest thing in the room.

"I know you do, son. So do I. We're doing all we can."

Wilmington prayed it would be enough.

TBC

A/N: I like to respond to feedback, but remember - if you are signed in as a guest I can't reach you (or haven't figured out how to do that. If there is a way, someone let me know?). : ( - AJB