Squished between Buck and Chris in the booth the hostess had led the team towards not long after they had first arrived, Sam watched with a skeptically raised brow as Buck shamelessly flirted with the waitress who had just circled back with their drinks, her teeth chewing absently on the tip of the straw in her iced tea in hopes that the effort would prevent her from giving in to the overwhelming urge to tease him about it in seconds, flat. Truthfully, it was nothing short of a relief to find that he had not changed a bit, and Sam highly doubted he ever would. And so, even though she wanted to fire away a quip or two in response to the obvious reluctance on the waitress' part to be a part of any of Buck's attempts at seduction, she remained silent, at least until her attention was momentarily diverted by the realization that the man she now knew as Josiah was addressing her, first-hand.
"Any idea how long we're going to be blessed with the pleasure of your company?"
"I guess that all depends on how long Chris is willing to put up with me," Sam replied, giving her brother a light nudge in the ribs with her elbow, a corner of her mouth lifting as she noted the slightly quirked brow that she received in response, "And how long the rest of you are, I suppose."
"Reckon we can accept your presence for as long as you need. Might do Chris some good to have a feminine influence around," Josiah mused, aware of the skeptical expression that had taken over Sam's features, though he did not have a moment to clarify, in the wake of Buck's ready laugh, and sudden inclusion in the conversation.
"Sammie ain't exactly what I'd call a feminine touch, Josiah. Been 'round me an' Chris too long for all that."
"Gee, thanks, Buck. Just what a girl always wants to hear."
"Any time, Sammie. Any time."
"Mr. Wilmington seems to elicit these responses every time he attempts to charm a lady. Perhaps he should use this as a sign to try an alternative technique."
"Maybe he should," Sam agreed, resisting the smile that tugged at the corners of mouth in response to Ezra's suggestion, and hoping that her outward expression would not betray the renewed flare of nerves she felt over the reminder of his presence, "Might stand a chance at getting with that pretty little waitress at the bar, if he did."
"I'm not altogether certain we should go that far," Ezra countered, holding out a hand to waylay Buck's obviously impending retort, and sending a sly wink Sam's way, whether or not he knew it was a risk given the reality of Chris' silent presence at her side, "Our friend might be inclined to let it go to his head."
"Fair point. I take it all back."
"Very funny, you two. Very funny," Buck griped, rolling his eyes in the wake of the apparent camaraderie that had formed between Sam, and the team's resident undercover man, before turning his attention to Chris instead, in hopes of enlisting some help in his apparent plight, "You wanna reel your sister in there, Chris? I'm gettin' real close to bein' in over my head, here."
"Never had much luck doin' that, before."
"There's a first time for everything."
"Not this time, Buck," Chris disagreed, glancing towards Sam, and noting her obviously feigned innocent smile with an equal mix of exasperation and amusement over the idea of being faced with unlimited exposure to her unending bickering with his oldest friend, "She stopped listening to me 'round eight years old."
"Hey!"
In response to her affronted exclamation, Sam found herself faced with the almost predictable silent glance from Chris, his expression all but daring her to disagree, and forcing her to bite down on the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud. She knew he was right, of course, whether she would ever admit it aloud or not. But before she could manage to come up with any possible response to attempt saving face in front of the rest of her brother's team, Sam found herself distracted by the sudden buzz of her cellphone inside the front pocket of her jeans, her hand moving to withdraw the device, and her heart jumping in her chest as she recognized the number flashing across the screen.
"Mind scootin' over, Buck? I really need to take this."
Though she could practically feel Chris' eyes following her movements as she scooted out of the booth, and managed what she hoped would be a reassuring smile for Buck before brushing past him and weaving her way through the tables spread across the floor until she reached the exit, Sam did her best to ignore the sudden churning in her gut, her breaths coming faster as she pushed past the door, and stepped into the humid air outside. Moving towards one of the benches situated beside the door, Sam took a seat while simultaneously accepting the call, and bringing the phone to her ear, her teeth digging into her lower lip for only a moment before she summoned the wherewithal to speak.
"Hello?"
"Can you talk?"
"Wouldn't have answered the call if I couldn't," Sam quipped, dragging her free hand through her hair in an effort to stall the wind from blowing the strands in front of her face, and leaning back against the bench before going on, "You find a lead?"
"You could say that," The caller confirmed, the sound of faintly clicking keys in the background giving Sam every reason to believe that whatever data that had been located to prompt this call to begin with was still very much a work in progress, "I take it you're in Denver already?"
"I am."
"Good. Our man on the inside was able to make contact last night. That's where the target is, too."
"Taylor is still in?" Sam inquired, surprise coloring her tone as she gave a hasty glance towards the door that had just swung open, her muscles tensing until she realized the person passing through was an older man with a carryout bag clutched in one hand, and not her brother or Buck coming to check on her as she had initially feared, "I thought he was nearly exposed."
"He wanted to stay until the last moment. From what I can see, his cover's still good."
"And he's sure the job in Denver is a go?"
"He is. Are you ready to move when he needs you?"
"Of course I am, Williams. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Maybe because I know what it almost cost you the last time we almost caught this guy," The caller-a genius crime tech Sam had worked with prior to her arrival in Denver named Nick Williams-explained, exasperation apparent in the words, no matter how he may have wished to avoid it, "I was there, remember. I saw you in the hospital-"
"And I'm fine. Completely healed," Sam cut in, leaning forward to place her elbows upon her knees, while her free hand moved to massage at her temple to ward off the headache beginning to bloom there in response to the tension that reverberated through her frame, "Doctor cleared me a long time ago, and I think you know that."
"I'm not talking about being cleared physically, Sam. You never talked to someone about what happened."
"And I don't intend to. Why don't you just tell me what you've got, because sittin' here tryin' to analyze my mental state isn't doin' either of us any favors."
"You sure?"
"Nick-"
"Okay, okay," Williams amended, concern still apparent in his tone, though he clearly acquiesced to Sam's demand readily enough, "Word is, he's plannin' on hitting a few heavy hitters in the banking world back to back."
"Any idea which one he's gonna start on?"
"I've narrowed it down to three. JP Morgan Chase, Bank of Denver, and Wells Fargo."
"Addresses?"
"Sent to your email two minutes ago."
"We have enough time to get a better lead on the specifics?" Sam inquired, once again glancing towards the restaurant door as it opened, this time revealing a young couple arm in arm, headed towards a snazzy red Mercedes parked a few spaces away, "I can't exactly sit out in front of three places at once."
"I'm working on that, Sam, I promise. But I don't think I'm comfortable with you facing this on your own."
"There's really no other way for me to do it, Nick. And I won't be alone, if Taylor's on the inside."
"Even so, you'd be going in two against eight," Nick cautioned, aware of the almost immediate scoff Sam gave in response, and yet ignoring it as his concern over her welfare clearly overrode any need to handle her sensitivity around the topic at hand as carefully as he could, "This is bigger than any vendetta you may have."
"I'm not makin' it about a vendetta."
"You sure about that?"
"Of course I'm sure!" Sam exclaimed, once again leaning back against the wood of the bench, her head dropping back while her eyes squeezed shut in hopes of corralling the exasperation that had very nearly become overwhelming, "It's not about that. I swear. I just-we need to get this guy."
"Trust me, I know that."
"Then can you just trust me to get the job done?"
"Only if you promise me you'll be careful," Nick countered, almost capable of predicting the way in which Sam's mouth would open immediately to protest, and hurrying to finish speaking before she could do so, and stop him in his tracks, "And if you can let anyone else in on this, you should. Didn't you say you had a brother in Denver that was tied up in law enforcement?"
"I'm not gettin' him into this. I can't," Sam said, a chill running through her frame at the thought of what stood to happen if Chris ever found out about her means of making a living at the same time that she realized the door to the restaurant had opened once more, allowing Buck, her brother, and the rest of the team to exit in no time at all, "I gotta go."
"Sam-"
"Email me any new information you find, Nick. I gotta go."
Disconnecting the call before Williams could even form a word in protest, Sam forced herself to stand from the bench, her eyes squinting against the glare of the sun as she moved to meet her brother half-way. Where Buck was offering her the same welcoming smile, Chris' expression was leaving absolutely no doubt in her mind that he was reading whatever thought or emotion would make itself known upon her features. And so, in spite of the lingering doubt that twisted in her gut, Sam forced a smile, only faltering a tiny bit as Chris asked her the question she knew she really ought to have seen coming all along.
"Everything alright?"
"Yeah. All good," Sam confirmed, ignoring the skepticism that remained in her brother's appraisal, and turning her attention back to the rest of his team instead, "We leavin'?"
"New case."
Falling into step between Chris and Buck, and allowing the latter to loop an arm around her shoulders as they began the trek across the parking lot to their vehicles, Sam remained silent amidst the idle chatter that echoed around her from the other members of the team, knowing full well that if her brother's expression were anything to go by, she would still be faced with questions over her sudden phone call as soon as things calmed down. It would have been a lie to pretend she was not apprehensive about such a thing, though she did take some comfort in knowing with relative certainty that Chris would at least give her the liberty of waiting until they were alone to start in on the impending interrogation.
She supposed she would simply have to take the rest as it came, and hope for the best.
…
Vin Tanner sat in his usual place between Josiah and JD at the table in the team's conference room, his fingers toying idly with the pen he had brought along despite having no intention of using it in the first place. Ever since JD had pinned the photograph of the man at the heart of their next case on the whiteboard, he had been distracted, his jaw clenched so tightly a part of him wondered if his teeth might crack beneath the pressure. Try though he might, he could not seem to drag his gaze away from the man's face, the familiarity of the gaunt features, and innately suspicious eyes holding his attention despite knowing that if he did not stop, he would likely garner unwanted attention from his teammates as a result. But whether or not anyone noticed, Vin would have been a fool to deny that being faced with the prospect of coming up against Eli Joe once again had filled him with equal parts determination and uncertainty, the past he had managed to keep from his team suddenly far closer to the surface than he truly cared to admit.
It was not that he doubted his team's capability for understanding the uniqueness of the situation he had been through. No, it was simply the idea of anyone knowing that, once, he was not quite so dedicated to the right side of the law, whether or not they would judge him for that fact or not.
"Hey, uh-Vin? You-you good?"
"Yeah. Yeah, JD, I'm fine," Vin replied, aware that the muted conversation JD had initiated had rather quickly garnered Chris' attention, one of the man's brows lifting in silent question, and causing Vin to shake his head in hopes that he would be able to reassure his friend that nothing was amiss, "No need to worry 'bout me, kid."
"You sure?"
"Positive. Why don't ya pay attention to what Chris is sayin' so he don't come back here and kill us both with his bare hands."
"Yeah. Yeah, okay," JD agreed, ducking his head down to hide the soft laugh that escaped in response to Vin's suggestion, though that did not entirely relieve him of the concern he felt in the wake of the sniper's uncharacteristically tense demeanor. He knew he was nowhere near as skilled at reading people as Josiah seemed to be, his relative lack of experience in that regard almost tending to speak for itself. But even with that small hindrance, JD had always felt he was closest to Buck, and Vin as well, having developed a knack for being comfortable with either one of them far faster than he had with any of the rest. And it was that closeness that he felt allowed him to feel relatively certain regarding the instinct that told him Vin was not exactly himself, his attention shifting back towards the front of the room just as Chris nodded towards Josiah, who stood and began to hand out case files to everyone gathered around the table in the same motion.
"Your reading material, gentlemen. Enjoy."
"And here I thought we might have finally earned a relaxing evening," Ezra joked, ignoring the sharp look Chris sent his way, and turning towards the table at large while simultaneously thumbing through the pages compiled in the folder with mild intrigue, "It would appear I was grievously mistaken."
"Big plans tonight, Ez?"
"Wouldn't you like to know, Mr. Wilmington."
"As a matter of fact, I think I would," Buck pressed, leaning back in his chair until it balanced on the back two legs, his arms folded across his chest as he regarded the man he addressed with a quizzical eye, "There a special lady waitin' on your attention, or somethin'?"
"Now what on earth might have given you that idea?"
"Just a lucky guess."
"Well then, I regret to inform you that your suppositions are unfounded," Ezra stated, depositing the folder on the table before where he sat, and regarding Buck with a skeptically raised brow before going on, "You might want to stop while you're ahead, and spare yourself more disappointment."
"I ain't a quitter, Ezra. You know that."
"I believe everyone in the entire state of Colorado knows that, Mr. Wilmington."
"Good. Maybe we oughtta work on gettin' the whole damn country to know while we're at it."
"Buck-"
"Yeah, Chris?" Buck replied, turning away from Ezra even in spite of the slight twitch of the lips he gave in response to his remark, and looking Chris in the eye just in time to note the faint warning that was apparent in his expression while he spoke.
"Think maybe we can get back to work, now?"
"Sure thing."
"Ezra?"
"By all means, Mr. Larabee. Carry on," Ezra agreed, somewhat relieved to have Buck's inquiries as to his social activities cut short, though he made every effort to avoid allowing that feeling to show in his expression at all. He knew very well that he was playing with fire. That giving in to the instinctive desire to invite Sam over for a drink was absolutely the last possible thing he should be doing, particularly in light of the newest case that had fallen in their laps. But even with that knowledge, Ezra was still not exactly willing to write off the opportunity before him altogether, his gaze dropping to the folder on the table before him as Chris elaborated on the tentative plan for developing a cover identity, and taking the robbery crew down from within, and his hand strayed almost immediately towards where his phone rested in his pants pocket.
Given his penchant for adapting far more quickly than most to whatever situation fell before him, Ezra supposed that losing some preparation time for the work ahead in favor of spending the evening with a woman who should, for all intents and purposes, remain off-limits would be well worth the effort, when push came to shove.
If that made him a fool, so be it.
…
Greetings, my loves! And welcome to a brand new chapter in Sam's tale! It seems to be becoming a bit of a routine for the muses to run away from me, particularly where this story is concerned, and the same can be said of the chapter you find here. So I really do hope that none of you mind this little pattern too much, because I think I'm having way too much fun to stop now!
As always, my heartfelt thanks go out to those of you that have taken the time to read, follow, favorite and review this story so far! Huuuuuge thanks also go to ChiTown4ever for being beyond encouraging as it pertains to not only reviews, but a constant willingness to listen to any number of random ideas that come to my mind! My appreciation for all of the kindness shown really cannot be put into words, so I hope that every one of you knows your support really does mean the world to me, and encourages me to keep on writing!
Until next time, my darlings…
MOMM