Don't own any part of Numb3rs or any of the Numb3rs characters. Original characters are mine, blah blah, yak,yak, and so on.
Chapter 10
"I'm gonna get fired, I'm gonna get fired, I am going to get fired!" Nikki Bentacourt groaned under her breath, "I should turn around and get out of here! Go call Ian and spend the night over a plate of veal saltimbocca and a bottle of imported Italian red. Low lights, soft music, do some sexy reconnecting. So why" she asked herself irritably, "am I still doing this? I don't have to. I can go the other way right now, hit the 101and forget this crazy notion ever popped into my head. Nobody has to know I even thought about coming here. Especially Don."
But, she couldn't, not really. Turn around and leave, that is. It had taken Nikki a while to work out her fit on Don Eppes team. In addition to the usual dumb rookie mistakes she was expected to make, there was the whole personality thing to deal with. The street smart, east L.A. raised Nikki grew up using her prickly hostility as both protection and a type of early warning system. It served her well. Kept her from having to suffer a lot of fools. She'd had to modify her style some after joining LAPD. Then again after graduating from Quantico. It hadn't been easy. Truth to tell, she still had the occasional rough spot, but mostly, things were much smoother.
Liz Warner had been the easiest. The only other female member of the team, she seemed most willing to cut the nervous Nikki some slack, and look over it when the newest team member shot herself in the foot. Don was much more difficult. Experienced and very good at what he did, he left her with a sense of constantly being evaluated and falling short. Nikki soon learned that her new boss was considered by some to be the best agent in the Los Angeles field office. David Sinclair, only minutely less intimidating than Don also made her feel like she had to prove herself on a daily basis. She forced herself to buckle down and earn their respect.
The most difficult member of the team for Nikki to figure out was Colby Granger. The Idaho native was a constant puzzle to her. No matter how hard she tried, Bentancourt couldn't pigeonhole the ex-Army Ranger. In his own way, Colby was as adept at hiding his true self from others as she. The privileged few got to know the real Granger. Everybody else only got to look thru the window. Nikki had always hated window shopping. She might have taken the 'let's see if you've really got what it takes' challenge in Colby's green eyes a trifle too personally. She resented having to work for his trust, to have to earn being considered good enough to watch his back. He'd been arrested for treason by his own team, so what right did he have to judge her?! He had his own trust issues and a lot of nerve, as far as she was concerned. Joining the team and getting more of the inside story about the Chinese spy deal, the freighter and the rest, handed Nikki a conundrum. Granger was a traitor who not only was not a traitor, but actually a hero. What was she supposed to do with that? Irrationally irritated by the whole situation, she decided the best defense was a good offense. Instead of working to earn his trust, she would make him earn hers. How dare he refuse to cooperate by reacting the way she wanted him to! The more skeptical mistrust she directed at him, the easier he shrugged it off. Her peevish swipe at his integrity during the team's second encounter with disgraced agent Roger Bloom was a byproduct of that, she guessed. She'd gotten a rise out of him that time, at last. Not a big one, but a rise. Immediately she felt smaller for it. It was a queasy kind of feeling, not to her liking. To get out from under it she decided to grow some. She wasn't winning the game anyway, so she gave it up. The strategy worked. She and Colby were never going to be best friends, but at least they'd stopped circling each other like two prizefighters looking for an opening. If Jack Lucern, a man Colby had ample reason to hate, hadn't been murdered, the working relationship between her and Granger might have continued to improve. But Lucern had gotten unnaturally dead, and however undeserved, Colby Granger was one of the people suspected of being responsible. Involuntarily, Nikki's former attitudes wormed their way back into her head, and Colby knew it. She couldn't hide it from him. Not that she'd tried very hard to do so. Bing, bang, boom. Just like that she was at arm's length again. Surprised to discover she did not want it that way, she had to do something about it. Nikki didn't want to get personal with Colby, or be in his fan club or anything like that, but she didn't want them to be enemies either.
So, here she was, at the MDC, preparing to risk getting kicked out of the Bureau and possibly mangle a good part of her future, to help clear him. She sucked in a big breath, squared her shoulders and proceeded up the steps. If she was going to strangle her FBI career in its infancy, she might as well woman up and get moving.
Armored against the approaching night's chill by a couple of layers of warm clothing, Colby watched the sun slowly sinking below the horizon with satisfaction. Dusk was the perfect time for sneaking around. Better than true night. It turned everything to an indistinct grey and blurred one object into another. That's exactly the way he wanted it. "Knock, knock" he thought, smiling coldly. "Here I come."
"Mr. Bailey, my name is Kerri Walton. I represent the man you've falsely accused of assaulting you." She'd appeared without warning in Barry Bailey's hospital room. With no one in the second bed, they had complete privacy.
"I ain't lied!" Barry protested shrilly. "Walton did this to me! He, he, he tried to kill__"
Kerri cut the weasel faced man off before he could gain any traction. "Shut up! You're lying and we both know it! I strongly suggest you stop doing it and give me the truth! I'm a federal prosecutor, Mr. Bailey" (a suspended one, but that was none of Barry's business). "Believe me when I tell you that lying in the course of a criminal investigation is a very, very bad idea. Take some good advice. Tell the truth before you get in too deep to dog paddle your way out!"
With long, dark curly hair, flashing green eyes and a lip licking figure, this Walton broad was a real looker. Ordinarily, Barry, who thought of himself as a lover, would've already made his move on a woman of this caliber. She put a hand on the bed railing and leaned closer, putting him within reach of those gorgeous knockers. He stifled the powerful desire to reach out and touch. Having the docs surgically remove his ripped off arm from where the sun don't shine sounded painful.
Snapping her fingers in his face, Kerri pulled Barry's vision back up to her face. "You've already lied to the police. Keep lying to me and I will personally see you do every minute of the time that comes with it."
"But, but, but…I, I can't…I, I, wait, you, you said your name is Walton? That's the same as ____"
"Yes, correct. He's my father. You know what that means, Barry? It means I have extra incentive to make you tell me who actually did this to you!"
"I, I, I don't have to talk to you! I want my lawyer! He should be here! You're not supposed to talk to me without my lawyer present!" This chick had gone from hot to scary.
"You're not under arrest, Mr. Bailey! Not yet, anyway" Kerri answered, lowering her voice ominously. If you want your attorney here for our little informal chat, go ahead and call him. I'll wait. But you should know something. The more of my time you waste, the more PMS I'm going to get! I'm already about at a five right now. Do you really want to find out what happens when I hit ten Barry? Do ya really!? Huh!?"
Barry cringed, drawing the blankets up to his chin, swallowing hard.
The normal night sounds filtered in, combined with the creaks and groans of the structure above him making peace with the foundation. Colby, with his back quite literally against the wall in a corner of the stygian basement, waited unmoving. His vision now accustomed to the darkness, he could make out vague shapes and angles. He'd been waiting for nearly an hour, breaths coming shallow in the musty, dry air. No home tours necessary this time around. No need to stand in the former dining room, kitchen or bedroom of the victims. All due respect to Steve Walton and his thirty years as a cop, but Granger's gut told him to stick it out here and wait for something to pop. So here he stayed, more or less comfortably perched atop a pile of cloth sacks that had once held, by their smell, some sort of drywall mixture. Not sure how much longer he would be holding up this section of wall, he took another bite of one of the soft energy bars in his pocket. Removed from their crinkly cellophane wrappers and contained in a soft, noiseless cloth, the food calmed hunger pangs and kept his midsection quiet. He'd seen missions compromised by a growling stomach. He couldn't afford to have that happen tonight, given his singular status. Andy/Avery had at least one friend. Colby needed to level the playing field as much as possible. Shouldn't be much longer. Avery and his buddy probably liked the nighttime. They'd be here soon. He'd not even completed the thought when his heightened senses caught both movement and sound in the portion of the room farthest from his position. He watched in utter amazement as a section of wall he would have sworn was solid began to move outward.
"You, you don't understand. You don't get it!" Barry was in full whine now. "I can't tell you anything, I caaaannnntt!" he sniveled, trying to hide under his blanket.
"Oh, but you can, Mr. Bailey, and you will." Kerri bore in relentlessly on the man. "Because if you don't, I will make your already pathetic life hell on earth! Start telling me what I want to hear! Truth or consequences time, Barry, give it up! Now!" She punctuated her demand by hammering on the railing.
Barry jumped. "You're a fed D.A. You can't do nothing to me! You got no jurisdiction!" Bailey seized on the closest out he could think of, calling on his voluminous hours of devoted TV time. Maybe all them television crime shows could help him out now.
Kerri's eyes narrowed contemptuously. "Yeah, Barry, I'm federal. But guess what? I've got a lot of friends in the King County prosecutor's office. They've got jurisdiction. You want I should get one of 'em to come on down Barry? Should I!? Cause I can, pretty quickly. Hey, wait!" Kerri said, snapping her fingers again. "I've got an even better idea! You've been ratting out your pals to the cops for some time now, haven't you Barry? Been giving up your buddies to keep yourself out of jail, or maybe just for the cash? How's being a rat working for you? Must be a pretty nice payday, huh? I wonder how many of your homeys know they are where they are now courtesy of Barry Bailey? I wonder how many of them would like to discuss it with you, up close and…personal? Whadda say, Barry? Should I give one of my King County D.A. friends a call, see if we can arrange an old home wee, oops, silly me, I meant, old home week reunion for you!? That sounds like a fine idea to me!" Pulling out her phone, Kerri started dialing.
"Wait! Wait! Wait! Don't do that! Please, please, don't do that!" There were certain residents currently in the custody of the King County legal system that Barry definitely did not want to be reunited with, ever! "OK, but I want protection! Ya gotta protect me! You see what he did to me! You gotta promise me you ain't gonna let him hurt me no more! Please, please lady, come on!" Barry's weepy, nasally whine hit the upper register.
Kerri didn't let up. Totally without sympathy, she kept up the pressure. "Who Barry!? Give me a name! Give me a name now, Barry, or I hit send!"
"Willis! Det…Detective Marty Willis. He called me up the other night! Made me meet him. I thought he wanted information. Instead he just starts whaling on me! He just kept pounding. Wouldn't even tell me what I did to piss him off! Just kept going! Then when he's done, he says I gotta say it was Walton that did this! That if I don't he's gonna find me and finish the job! I woulda done anything to get him off me! I'm sooorrryy! Please, don't put me in jail! I'll die there if you do! Please, lady!" He grabbed at Kerri's sleeve, which she quickly pulled out of range.
Striding to the door, she opened it to reveal Det. Sgt. Rudy Thomas.
"Did you get all that?" She asked him, throwing a somewhat pityingly glance over her shoulder to the whimpering Bailey.
"Yes, every word" replied Thomas heavily. When Steve Walton's daughter had shown up at his place making her case for a frame up of her old man, Rudy's first instinct was to slam the door in her face. Two things kept him from doing it. She was very convincing, and, unfortunately, Rudy knew his partner. Years of watching Marty operate left Thomas with no illusions. He let her talk him into coming to the hospital, waiting outside Bailey's room while she softened the informant up. All the while hoping she was wrong, and knowing she wasn't. Aware of but not part of Willis's corruption, he'd tried to walk the fine line of loyalty to his partner and ethical behavior as cop. But this, after what he'd just heard, Rudy stared at the floor. He had no choices. None at all.
Colby observed, astonished, as the wall became a door, allowing first one, then another shadowy figure to emerge into the basement. Meager light seeped thru the opening. Turning his face away to protect his eyesight, he could see enough to discern a size difference. One of his new fellow cellar dwellers was much bigger than the other. In fact, he was about the size of the man Granger had chased down the steps the other day.
"Hello again, dickhead" Colby thought. He hunkered down, hunching his shoulders to prevent his presence from being exposed. Statue still, he saw the pair begin to move. All of a sudden, he found himself on the horns of a dilemma. Did he follow them, or take advantage of their absence to check out the, he couldn't believe he was even thinking this and David was never going to believe it either, secret passageway that spit them out? He'd bet a sizable chunk of his paycheck that the big one was Avery Cummings, indeed all filled out as an adult. The smaller one, name unknown, was the likely ticket puncher for his flight down the steps during his first visit here. As Avery and his mystery date climbed the steps leading to the kitchen, Granger chose. Back in Winchester, he'd always enjoyed exploring hidden spaces and places where few other feet had trod. But sticking with his unwitting companions was more important, at least for the time being. He'd come back here because, like Steve Walton, Colby had become convinced the answers he sought were contained within. Some, possibly all of those answers were now headed upstairs, so he would too. He ascended those steps as quietly as if he were trailing the Taliban. An unexpected squeak or extra noise could be the death of him. He paused on the top step, hovering inside the doorway. The 'suspects' were standing about four feet away, and, apparently, some sort of heated discussion had commenced.
"Please, I don't want to go out there! Please, let me stay here! Please, brother! Please! I'm afraid! Please!"
The words, spoken in an anguished, sobbing whisper, came from the smaller of Colby's subjects. 'Little' guy's distress was so evident even Granger could feel it from his watcher's post.
"Brother, you must be strong. Weakness is always punished by the violators! Haven't I told this over and over? If you allow them to sense your fear, they will destroy you! You must be strong!" 'Big' guy's voice was deep but not harsh. It was as if he were trying not to frighten 'Little.'
'Little' remained unconvinced. "I don't want to go! If I leave here, if I go outside, something bad will happen! They, they will hurt me! Please, I don't want to go! Please, brother! Please!"
"Alright, alright. Very well, shush now! It's alright. You may stay tonight. I'll go alone. I'll return soon. Wait for me here. It's alright." 'Big' soothed his terrified partner, patting his shoulders in what appeared to Colby to be a comforting gesture.
Using the blanket of darkness, 'Big', probably Avery Cummings, went to the kitchen's back door, and, with a final nod at 'Little' exited. He was carrying some sort of bag, but Granger had no way to tell what it contained. 'Little' relieved at being allowed to remain behind, settled into a corner of the kitchen, knees drawn up to his chest, one arm wrapped around them. Left alone, and still frightened, 'Little' alleviated his anxiety by doing something Colby hadn't done since he was a toddler. Rocking back and forth, humming softly, 'Little' was sucking his thumb, resembling nothing so much as an oversized three year old child. He was holding something tightly. Colby couldn't tell what it was. Watching 'Little's" movements, a horrible thought began to occur to the FBI agent. Longing to the depths of his soul to be mistaken, he kept an eye on 'Little' for a minute more, then eased silently back down the steps to the recently revealed passageway to confirm his suspicions. Not an especially religious man, Colby did something he hadn't done in a very long while. He prayed to be wrong.