A/N: Thank you again for the reviews, appreciate it!

Enjoy

As they left the restaurant, he stopped Logan as he spun around on him. Something had been bothering him about this whole thing and he finally realized what it was. "Why would the Commissioner and the Chief want to meet on a holiday weekend? Even if something came up for Monday, wouldn't they reschedule for later in the work week?"

"All he said was that something came up and it couldn't wait. You know how it is."

"Yeah, I do, and that's why I know that if the Commissioner couldn't make a meeting on Monday he'll reschedule for later in the week, not on a holiday Sunday," he countered as he looked around the street as he zipped up his coat. Since it was Sunday, and he wasn't on duty, he was casually dressed in a pair of jeans and a thick flannel long-sleeved shirt. "And how did Garrison know about the hit going out on Travis?"

Mike shrugged as he went to move away from him. "I figured with all the commotion going around for the past couple of days a little birdie probably told him."

"Maybe, but who and why?" he asked as Mike started for his car that was parked down the street.

"Does it matter?"

Bobby got in front of Mike again and stopped him. "It matters to me. There's something going on and I want to know what it is."

Mike sighed in frustration as he pulled out his gloves and slipped them on. "And I'm guessing you want to find out before tonight?"

Smiling slightly, he slapped Mike on the shoulder as he said, "And I need you to be the one to find out since I'm not supposed to be at the department."

Mike looked annoyed but he didn't say no. Instead, he asked, "What're you going to do?"

He had stepped off the curb to cross the street when Logan asked that. Calling over his shoulder, he said, "What'd you think? I've got to convince a cop into taking me along."

As before, he had parked his car behind the bar across the street but instead of walking back through the building, he rounded the corner and headed down the alley side street to the back parking lot. Being hyper-vigilant, he kept glancing over his shoulder and looking along the buildings around him. He knew his paranoia was justifiable with everything that had happened. Along with his suspicion that something was going on, that he wasn't being told the whole truth, he was struck with the absurd thought that he couldn't even trust Logan.

Shaking his head of that thought, he crossed the parking lot to his car as he pulled out his keys. Keeping aware of his surroundings, he used the key to unlock the door. As he opened the door to get in, he heard the backdoor to the building open. Jerking his head around, he watched as two men exited the building and headed for another car that was parking on the opposite side of the lot.

Breathing out, he slid into the driver seat and started the engine. He didn't' know whether to be amused or grateful for his paranoia; it felt like he was wound so tight that he was going to blow. Sure he had good reasons to be on high alert, but to jump at every sound or person was irrational and he felt slightly embarrassed by this behavior.

His feeling of unease hadn't suddenly happened either. He'd felt slightly off and uncomfortable for some time now, like he wasn't safe anymore. Conducting checks around his apartment every night, questioning his partner's loyalty and trust, and now with checking up on Garrison.

Running his hand over his head as he waited at a red light, Bobby wondered if maybe he was starting to lose it. If he was over-thinking, overreacting, and trying to see dishonesty and betrayal where there wasn't any. But really, who could blame him with the week he had. No, with the month he had. Working for Internal Affairs and forming alliances with corrupt cops, being beaten by good cops, it was no wonder he thought he could no longer trust anyone.

He had promised himself that he wouldn't let this happen. That he wouldn't let himself slip into this dark, corrupt world. Even though he hadn't exactly done that, he was letting it get to him. He was questioning friendships, his partnership, colleagues, and even the people he had entrust himself with the operation.

Not everyone was a traitor, he knew that, but at the moment he suspected everyone of being just that: a traitor. He realized he was waiting for the next betrayal; for the next traitor to reveal themselves. Garrison could have been having a meeting with the higher-ups about everything that happened the last few days. Or it could have been about something else entirely.

It was entirely irrational, but he couldn't shake the fact that his gut was telling him something was wrong.

Arriving at the intersection the Internal Affairs office was located, he knew immediately that Garrison wasn't there. The building was close, parking lot empty, and not a single light was on inside. It was closed for the holiday weekend.

That left one other option for the meeting and he knew for a fact that One Police Plaza would be open; it never closed. There was always some cop working when everyone else was at home enjoying their holiday. Starting toward the interstate, he pulled out his cell phone and decided to check the voicemail Garrison had left him.

Listening to the man talking, he picked up on a few things. Garrison still sounded like he was in a hurry, either moving fast or he highly impatient, nervous or excited about something. He didn't know the man well enough to know how he sounded in a particular state of mind, but he didn't sound calm. Nothing Garrison said in the voicemail clued him onto anything; it was basically a recap of what Logan told him about having to meet with the brass.

Closing his phone, he looked out across the bay as he hit the bridge. The sky was growing darker with an approaching storm front. That meant more snow and the temperature was already dropping a degrees an hour. By tonight it was going to be freezing.

Getting it straight in his head as to what he was going to tell Jackson, he took a breath and opened the phone. Putting the phone to his ear as he listened to it ring, he realized that he was planning for something that might not even happen. Jackson could tell him no.

As soon as Jackson answered, his well-thought out plea went out the window because he realized what he had to do. The only way to get Jackson to bring him along wasn't to plea with him to come along on a hit that he shouldn't have known about.

He didn't know why he felt so nervous, or even unsure of himself as he finally spoke, but he did because a man like him wasn't supposed to be trying to set up a hit to kill another cop. However, it was the perfect tactic because it released Jackson and Rivers from responsibility. They could always say that it was him who set up the hit. That it was him who ordered it and who pulled the trigger.

He wasn't too surprised that by the time he entered Brooklyn that it was a done deal. Bobby tossed to phone on the passenger seat and let out a deep sigh. Tonight he would go with Jackson and Rivers out to the middle of nowhere Staten Island in the pretense of murdering another cop.

While he thought that over, and how he was going to prevent that from actually happening, he followed the interstate around, bypassing the Brooklyn Bridge that would have led him into Manhattan and 1PP, and continued on to Greenpoint.

Stepping through the backdoor, he stomped off the slushy snow from his boots and took in the kitchen. It was empty and the silence was a welcomed relief to the chaotic noise of Alex's relatives. Speaking of Alex, her car was out front but from the silence in the apartment he knew she wasn't home.

On the table, written on a post-it note, he found out the reason why. Alex had left with her family for the day. Pulling out his cell phone as he got a beer from the refrigerator, he pressed the speed dial for her cell.

On the fifth ring, she picked up. "Eames."

Bobby frowned at the greeting; she must not have looked at the caller ID before answering. "Hey."

"Oh, hey, Bobby. Are you home?"

Sitting down on the couch, he answered, "Yes, and I was expecting you to be here when I got back."

"Sorry. I tried calling but your cell went straight to voicemail and I didn't feel like leaving a message. I left a note."

"I read it. So, are you at your sisters, or your parents?"

She was quiet for a moment and he heard her voice speaking to someone else as she excused herself from the room. "Actually, I had them drop me off at the hospital."

He sat up fast, splashing the drink over his hand, "Dammit," he muttered under his breath. "Are you okay?" he asked as he got up and went into the kitchen to grab a hand towel.

"Everything's okay; I'm visiting Harry. His uncle finally got here and I was updating him on what happened."

Bobby rinsed his hand off as he listened, debating on whether or not he wanted to go and join her vigilance over her injured partner. He was waiting on Logan to get back with him on what he found out, if anything. "I can come out there if…I mean, are you staying long?"

She sighed heavily into the phone and he could sense her uncertainty. "I don't know. I feel obligated…He hasn't woken up yet and I keep thinking that if that were me, I would want to see my partner first thing. Once he wakes and finds out he's missing a leg, he's going to need all the support he can get."

"Okay," he said with resignation. Bobby was certain that Alex would stay there at least for a few hours before coming back home. "Um, I'll, uh…There're some things I gotta handle first, then I'll give you a call when I'm on my way."

"Bobby, you don't have to come."

"I know, but I want to. And once you're ready to leave, we'll get dinner." That sounded like as good a plan as any. Then, once dinner was done, he would have to drop her off and then to Staten Island to meet Jackson.

"Thank you," Alex told him in a soft whisper. "So, I'll see you soon."

"Yeah; it'll, uh, it'll probably take me an hour."

They said their good-byes and hung up. Bobby stood at the counter long after he shut his phone, drinking the bottle of beer as he that about Alex. The emotions tempting his heart were confusing him because he knew he had nothing to worry about when it came to her. He shouldn't feel jealous. He shouldn't be worrying why in her note she didn't tell him that she went to the hospital to visit Copeland. He shouldn't have wondered why she didn't feel like leaving him a message, telling him where she was. He shouldn't be thinking that if he hadn't called her he wouldn't have known.

Finishing the beer, he tossed the bottle in the recycling bin under his sink then grabbed his keys.

It took him a little longer than an hour before he was stepping off the elevator onto the floor where Detective Copeland was recovering. The cops that had been there the night before were all gone and the only cop he saw keeping a watchful eye outside the door was Alex. She was talking to the Assistant Chief of D's, Copeland's uncle, and sipping on a bottle of water.

Easing up to the two, Bobby extended his hand. "Chief," he said as the older man shook it. "I'm Detective-"

"I know who you are, Detective Goren," the Chief gruffly told him.

Bobby gave a nod as he dropped his hand. "Of course, uh…How is he?"

"He briefly woke up not too long ago but passed out again before we could talk. I'm worried but the doctors told me that it's a good thing. Once he wakes for good, he'll be in a lot of pain, both physically and otherwise. He needs all the rest he can get."

He looked to Alex who was standing next to him but her focus was in the room where her partner laid asleep. Bobby didn't know what else to say to the man, and it seemed that the chief knew that as he turned and headed back into the hospital room. Once they were left alone in the hall, he pulled Alex to him, keeping in mind her injured arm, and held her tight.

She relaxed immediately in his arms but he still felt the tension that had built knot his shoulders and clench his jaw. Looking up at him, she asked, "You okay?"

Bobby felt himself shrug in reply as he looked around the empty corridor. "This place have any good coffee?"

"I wouldn't know; I've been drinking this bottle of water since I got here."

Pulling her with him, he started for the elevator. She didn't ask where they were going or why, Alex let him guild her willing through the hospital until they were in the cafeteria. He got himself a cup of coffee and her a hot cup of herbal tea.

Alex took a small table by the windows that looked out into the halls of hospital and smiled when he sat the cup in front of her. "Smells delicious; thank you."

They sat in silence for a while as he rubbed at his pounding head; he was trying to decide on what to tell her, if anything, about what he was going to do tonight. Normally, if they had been partners, she would have known and he wouldn't have to go through this battle within his soul. He wouldn't have any fear of her, but since she wasn't his partner he was struggling.

Glancing up at Alex, he saw her patiently waiting for him to speak. He smiled slightly as he shifted in his seat and tilted his head. That look was one he loved because it was so familiar. He couldn't remember how many times at work he would look at her and see her just waiting for him to say something. She never interrupted his thinking, well, not unless it was because a call came in or new information was discovered.

"How come you didn't tell me in the note that you were coming here?"

Alex raised her eyes at him in surprise. Sitting the tea down to stir around the tea bag, she told him, "I hadn't planned on it."

"You could've told me."

Her brow wrinkled in confusion as she said, "I was going to tell you."

"Before you came yo-, you couldn't let me know where you were," he stressed as he locked eyes with her. He was suddenly on the defensive and he had no idea why.

That was until she sighed and shook her head at him. "Not this again," she breathed out as she rubbed her forehead. Eyeing him, she said, "You're jealous."

"I'm not-"

"Yes you are."

Holding his hand up to stop the tirade he knew was coming, he said, "I know that there's nothing going on, or going to happen, between you and Copeland."

Alex leaned across the table as she quietly, yet sternly, replied, "I know. It's not that idea that's making you jealous, it's the time, my time, that I'm giving to him that's making you jealous. You're jealous for the simple fact that I'm concerning him and his feelings over yours."

"I-" he nearly choked on his next words at the sudden realization that she was right. Taking a breath, he closed his eyes in shame and fear. Shame for even having feelings of jealousy, and fear of Alex knowing him too damn well. "How'd you know that…that I was feeling that way?" he asked as he needed to know how she knew that about him.

"I've seen you this way before when I was pregnant."

His head snapped up at that. Alex was staring right at him but her anger, and hostility were gone. She appeared understanding, open, even loving as she gave him a soft smile.

"I also remembered the stories I heard about your behavior at work during that time. How you could actually be jealous of the time I was devoting to my pregnancy, to the baby inside me," she shook her head at him. "It was troubling, but I thought we were beyond that."

"We are," he weakly told her; he didn't even hear the truth in those words. However, he did hear his own desperation.

"Are we? Bobby, you're upset because I didn't tell you I came here to visit my injured partner."

Shifting around in on the chair, he looked around the café, around the halls, anywhere but her as he felt the impact of that.

"I'm sorry, Bobby. I'm not trying to attack you. It's not like I've never been jealous before myself."

"Yeah, when were you ever jealous of me?"

"Oh, I don't know. How about Nicole, or Nelda."

Bobby stared hard at her for a long moment before leaning over the table. "Nicole is a sociopath, and Nelda's-"

"I know you would have never done anything with either or them, but how'd you think it made me feel hearing you tell Nicole things that you have never told me, or seeing how you let her get to you. Bobby, you let her call you on your phone. And Nelda..." she breathed out. "I know that you were playing her after you thought she might've been the killer, but before then that was no act. I knew you liked her when you stood up when she walked into that office the first time we met her. That clearly told me, and everyone else in that room, that you where taken by her."

This wasn't going the way he had thought, or wanted it to go. They had gotten off track of what he wanted to talk to her about and instead of telling her about tonight he was talking about them, their relationship and their jealousy. Feeling like he was seconds away from snapping at her or walking away, he breathed out and covered his head with his hands. "I apologized for that months ago."

"I know, and I brought that back up to let you know that I understand your feelings, but they're misguided. I'm not interested in Harry one way or the other."

Bobby nodded into his hands as he pushed down the guilt he still felt from those feelings he had many months ago. Steadying his voice, he honestly told her, and not knowing why, "I took the lock off the study."

Silence drifted between the two of them until he gathered the nerve to look at her. He twisted his restless hands together and placed them against his mouth as he waited for her reply.

"Why?" she asked.

Again, he shrugged because he didn't know. When he had done it he felt conflicted, like he making his home totally accessible…vulnerable.

"Bobby, I know you," Alex softly told him as she leveled him again with her eyes. "I think the reason you put that lock on your study to begin with was because you needed to have a lock on something."

"Alex…"

"Let me finish." Alex took a breath and looked down, away from him before she continued. "I know that this is hard for you. You've been alone, living alone for practically your entire adult life and you've told me enough of your childhood to where I know that you were alone then too. And now I'm living with you. It's overwhelming and you feel like you need something that's yours. Your whole apartment used to be yours. It was your sanctuary. The one place you could go and feel safe. And don't think that I didn't noticed your new habit of getting up in the middle of the night to check your locks and windows. You never did that before."

"I want to make sure your safe."

"Maybe," she said with a nod. It was to reassure him that maybe that wasn't a lie, because when she continued, she told him, "But you're doing it mostly to make sure you're safe because you no longer feel that way. I threw everything off."

"You didn't-"

"So," she continued like he hadn't just tried to cut her off again, "you chose the study to be yours. The one room where you, and only you, can go to have privacy. To feel safe."

They were silent again as he processed all that she had told him. He hadn't thought of it that way because he hardly ever took the time to analysis his actions. Yeah, he felt things and thoughts things, but he never dug too deep or dived too far into his depths to understand his 'why'. He just did. He acted. Giving a nod, he acknowledged, "You're right. I do feel unsafe…and you being there, it's uh…it's taking some getting used to." After a moments consideration, he asked, "What'd you want me to do?"

She sighed at that, like the question frustrated her, before answering, "Keep the study, but you can leave the lock off. I'll stay out if that's what you want. Just tell me that you need your space and I'll respect that."

That sounded nearly too good to be true. There weren't too many people willing to compromise with him, and he had no experience of a woman ever doing that for him in a relationship. No one except for her. "You won't try to come in like you did the other morning?"

"The other morning I had no idea what was going on. I do now, so no, I won't."

"I-I, uh…" Bobby leaned back in his chair as he struggled with the warring thoughts and emotions bursting through his head. "I don't want you to take it personally or-or, uh, be offended, thinking that I'm trying t-to…to get away from you. I enjoy you being there," he honestly told her. "I love coming home to you."

She placed her hand on his as he felt his anxiousness rise. Trying to reassure him, she said, "I would never think-"

"What'd you think when I put it on there?"

"At first I thought it was because you didn't trust me. Then you told me it was because my nephew and nieces were coming over," she gave him a look, a disappointed look, as she continued, "I believed you."

Breathing out deeply, he shook his head as he felt the irritation at his own insecurities grip his chest. She trusted him as much as he did trust her. There trust was so deep it was nearly blinding for the both of them. Yet his insecurities still remained because trust could be easily broken, especially when you loved someone. He had broken her trust in him before, and now he was waiting for her to do it right back to him. That seemed to be the way his world worked. He was always waiting for the betrayal, even from those he truly trusted and relied on.

"I didn't realize it was a lie until you showed up drunk that night." The bitter disappointment in her voice when she said that yanked on his heart so hard his chest clenched as a lump filled his throat. "You can trust me, Bobby. You can always come and talk to me. I'll listen and I won't judge, or at least I'll try not to."

Gathering his words together in his head and finding his voice, he cleared his throat, telling her, "You've got a point. From now on, I'll come to you."

"You mean it? You'll actually confide in me?"

Taking his pained eyes off the table, he nodded his answer because he could no longer speak. If he did, it would be a lie and he knew it. He was telling her what she wanted to hear but not what he could actually give her. She would forgive him, hopefully.

Alex still looked skeptical, knowing him so well and everything, and asked just as skeptically, "Is that a promise?"

Nodding still, he lied again, "Yeah."

The look remained as she finished off the tea and threw the cup away. As they left the café, she asked, "Would if be okay if we had dinner at Liz's tonight?"

Actually, he thought as they waited for the elevator, that would be perfect since he had to go out to Staten Island anyway. "Sure, and you can stay over if you want."

"Why would I want to do that?"

That was when he told her that he had to help Logan out on something tonight at work. Her look was worried yet trusting; she believed him.

The road was dark, desolate, and exactly what he suspected. What he hadn't suspected was them denying Logan the opportunity to come with him. It was just him or none of them. Bobby didn't like leaving his backup behind but it was that or miss this chance. He took the chance, gave Logan a reassuring pat on the shoulder, and then got into the front passenger seat of the car.

The seat wasn't his preferred spot. He had been to enough crime scenes, and watched too many mafia movies to know that it gave the people in the backseats the perfect opportunity to kill him. Sitting sideways in the seat, with his back to the door, he was able to keep his eyes on everyone.

Jackson was the driver, Rivers was in the back along with Travis who looked worse than he did. Travis nose was broken, blood had gushed down his mouth and chin onto his dress shirt, his face was battered and bruised, and his left eye was starting to swell. That had all happened on the drive from where they had ambushed Travis at a corner liquor store to where they were now on a dark winding road in the middle of Staten Island.

He had to admit that he didn't feel too bad for the rough treatment of the homicide detective. Travis had caused him so much pain he was ashamed to admit the satisfaction he felt at seeing Jackson bust the man's nose. And that had been what he had done, just watch.

He was there as an observer until he had to intervene. The car slowed and Bobby looked out the window to see that they were turning onto another street. Arthur Kill Road…Bobby momentarily smirked at the irony of it before a thought hit his head. A realization that stilled his breathing and sent him into action.

The first thing he did was act like he felt a buzz in his pocket. Pulling out his cell phone, he saw the two connection bars he had and hoped it was enough. Acting like he had received a text, he opened his contacts and found Logan's cell number. Then, he asked Jackson, "Uh, this isn't going to be too long is it?"

Jackson shot him a look but answered anyway, "I don't know, man. It might. Why?"

Shaking his head, he mumbled something about Alex as he sent a short, two letter message to Logan. "Just wandering. I was just…oh, fuck, I didn't-" he cut himself off as he found Alex's contact number and sent her another short message.

DON'T WAIT UP…RG

Flipping his phone shut after he sent it, he pocketed the phone and looked back at Travis and smiled slightly.

"Better wipe that smug look off your ugly mug, Goren. Once they off me, you're next."

Bobby didn't doubt that for a minute. Turning to Rivers, he playfully mouthed, "Ugly?"

River didn't even give him a smile.

Logan returned from refilling his cup with more coffee for the third time when his phone indicated that he received a text. Gripping as he sat the cup down, he flipped his cell open as he saw the message from Goren.

"What the…?" he said as he sat down and tried to understand why his partner sent him a text of his initials.

RG…Why would Goren send him a text of that? Logan shook his head and tossed the phone on desk as he tried to figure it out.

He had told Goren that when he got to where he was going to send him a text, telling him where they were. It had to mean something. He wouldn't just send an empty text. Picking up his phone again, he checked all the other texts from Goren and not one of them ended with a signature of his initials.

Something was going on, he knew it. Then it hit him. 'RG' weren't Goren's initials. They were for someone else.

Logan eyed the phone and then sighed as he looked over to Goren's desk, and then his desk and their files as he tried to make the connection. It was obviously someone Goren knew that he would respond to, that he would know…

He spotted the file folder sticking out from the bottom of several others. Pulling it out, he flipped it open and reread the pages, double checking his facts, and then bolted for the door.

He knew where they were taking Travis and how they were planning on killing him.

"You said you were going to tell me about what happened with the Connelly's."

"I told you Sullivan didn't kill them."

"I know. It made no sense for Greg Connelly to try and call him if he was there."

"And, what else y'know?"

Bobby didn't know if he should tell them everything, but at the moment he saw no harm. It wasn't like they could do anything about it now. "I know that Officer Gabriele and his partner, Felton, staged the scene. What I don't know is who actually pulled the trigger and why."

Jackson nodded as he kept his eyes on Travis as he stumbled through the snow as they ventured deeper into a densely wooded area off the road. "The hit was put in place by the Connelly's middle man."

Bobby kept his eyes on Rivers who was pushing Travis along as he asked, "The person who needed millions of dollars laundered through his casino?"

Jackson smiled a little as he answered, "It wasn't just one person. It was multiple, but we all gave our money to one person and he became the middle man. Connelly never knew who exactly he was cleaning money for. If he was ever caught, we all would be safe."

Bobby turned to him in surprise. All this time they were going on the assumption that it had been one guy. Turned out it was all of them. "Who'd you give your money to? Sullivan?"

"No, no, not him. Sully would have turned on us in a second if he were caught. C'mon, you're an intelligent guy. Who would you suspect of having millions of dollars in dirty money, and would be beneficial for Connelly to be in bed with?"

He could only think of one person. Bobby shook his head that he didn't make the connection before, but how could he when everything was so messed up. "Savoie."

"Bingo."

"Wait, so Savoie put out the hit on Connelly and his wife? Why?"

"He wanted control of the casino boats. They had a agreement in place over ownership. If something happened to Connelly, Savoie would be owner. With Connelly out of the picture, he became the only man getting a share of what we brought to him to clean. Plus, he found out Connelly was scamming him, and us, by taking more than what was owed for his services."

"And you agreed to do it because why not? With Connelly out of the picture…you get half instead of a third. You put your trust into a mob boss?"

"So did you."

Jackson had him there. Bobby nodded a little as they came upon a clearing. Rivers pushed Travis one last time, and doing it so hard it made the detective trip to the snowy hard ground. "And look at where it got me. He doubled crossed us. He ordered his men to take us out."

"You can blame Travis for that. He was in charge of dropping off what we got to Savoie."

Bobby looked back at the cop lying face first in the snow. Rivers turned him over when Travis refused to move. Travis's hands were cuffed in front of him with his own handcuffs. "You told Savoie about the IA investigation, didn't you?"

Travis glared hard at him before looking up at the sky. It wasn't like he could answer him with his mouth gagged with his bloody tie.

"Okay, so I'm guessing that Travis was the one to actually shoot the Connelly's."

Jackson looked over at him as he asked, "How'd you figure that?"

"Because I know it wasn't you or Rivers. You two were in court, solid alibi. Travis said that he was in the department, that Sullivan left early and never came back. That's a lie. Sullivan was in the office, Travis was the one that left early. I remember him leaving the department when I got the call for the Ulrich suicide."

"Okay. Mind telling me how you knew what he told the cops about his whereabouts?"

Bobby heard the hostility as Rivers asked him that. Turning from Jackson, he addressed the younger cop, telling him, "Why wouldn't I know? I worked that case and I actually talk to my girlfriend," he said, taking an unnecessary shot at the detective. "She trusts me with information. Anyway, what I don't get is why you killed Lance."

"Sullivan was going to turn us all in," Rivers spat out in anger. "He said he had a book, a receipt book where he kept everything documented."

"Did you find the book?" Bobby asked even though he already knew the answer. They didn't find the book because he did. It was hidden in the nonexistent cat's litter-box.

"We searched but we couldn't find it. So he either lied or it's in some safety deposit box somewhere."

Bobby stepped away from the detectives as he gave a nod. Looking around the woods, he let out a breath before asking, "So, are we going to do this or what?"

Jackson hesitated and he caught it. That hesitated got his attention and spurred his paranoia as he looked around the clearing more closely. Nothing but trees and snow.

He heard a scuffle and looked in time to see Rivers yanking the tie from Travis's mouth but he kept the cuffs on.

Travis breathed out heavily as he trembled on the ground. He looked terrified, like a man who knew he was seconds away from being killed.

Rivers nodded to Jackson before stepping away.

Jackson pulled his gun and Bobby tensed as he went to open his mouth but then he saw him thrust the gun against his chest. "He's all yours. Make it quick."

Bobby stared at him before looking down at the weapon being pressed against him. Taking it into his hand, he relaxed slightly knowing he would be the one with the gun in his hand. The moment he held it in his left palm, he knew something was wrong. It was too light. Then he thought that maybe it was because the magazine was only holding one or two rounds. Shit, that meant if he had to get into at gun fight, he only had one or two rounds to fight with.

"Well?"

He was broken from his observation by Jackson's question.

"Are you going to take this traitor out or what?"

Looking from him then down at Travis, he pointed the gun.

Jackson swore as he tensed and moved away from him, hands up, because he wasn't pointing the gun at the man on the ground but at him. "Bobby?"

As he went to speak, he noticed something that terrified him more than anything. First, the indicator on the gun that would show him if a round was chamber wasn't sticking out showing red. Meaning that the gun in his hand held no bullets.

The second thing he noticed was that all three men were looking over his shoulder.

The feel of a gun being pressed into the back of his skull froze him. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. A warm breath tickled his ear as the person moved up behind him. He felt their presence before smelling their scent. Perfume…and it was familiar.

Of all the people he thought would betray him, would put a gun to his head, she was the last person he would have suspected. For fuck's sake, he never thought to suspect a woman.

Speaking into his ear, he heard her say, "Who's the traitor now?"

TBC…