Disclaimer: Chuck Norris, Aaron Norris, CBS and others own the characters of "Walker Texas Ranger" and "Sons of Thunder". Any new characters and story lines that come into play are of my own creation. No copyright infringement is intended. This is a fanfiction intended for entertainment purposes only and I am not making any money from it.

Chapter 15: Wrong

When Lucy arrived at home, her temper was burning like a wildfire. She had pulled off her clothes and hopped under a cold shower. The image of that smirking jerk, Jake Snyder, entered her mind. She punched the wall of the shower. Ignoring the stinging pain in her hand, she focused on pushing back the painful memories from her past.

She decided to focus on something else and was surprised to see that a clear image of a grinning Carlos Sandoval had invaded her mind. Instead of pushing the image away, her mind locked onto his coffee-colored eyes. The anger and pain fade away.

Slowly opening her eyes, she cursed profusely and wondered why and how Carlos could have such an affect on her.

Shutting off the shower, she opened the curtain and grabbed a towel. She had dried herself off, put on sweatpants and a t-shirt, and was combing her hair when her cell rang.

Dropping the comb on the edge of the sink, she rushed into the kitchen and picked it up off the counter. She saw that it was Trivette and hit the answer button. "Hey, Trivette," she greeted.

"Evening, Lucy," answered Trivette. "Parker and Oswald have vanished."

She took a deep breath, her hand clutching the cell a little tighter. "What? How?"

"Not sure yet, but we are looking into it," he responded with an aggravated tone. "We have also put extra people on Daisy, just in case they try to go after her."

She took a deep breath as she released the death grip on her phone before she spoke. "Thanks for letting me know, Trivette."

"Yeah, unfortunately it is not exactly the best of news." He sighed and then added, "The team is getting together in the morning at Thunder Investigations at eight."

"I'll be there," she ended the call and set the cell down on the counter. She ran her hands through her damp hair, wondering what else would go wrong on this case.

Carlos gently tossed his cell onto the couch as he sat down in his recliner, leaned forward and rubbed his face with his hands. Trivette had told him that Parker and Oswald were in the wind. Trying to find them now would be nearly impossible and would take a miracle.

He gave a frustrated sigh as he leaned back and looked up at the ceiling of his apartment. The ceiling fan had dust and cobwebs clinging to its blades. Gazing around the room he saw that his apartment needed a thorough cleaning, but he had been so busy with the case that he hadn't had a chance.

He leaped out of the chair and went to the kitchen. Kneeling down in front of the sink, he opened the cabinet and started to pull out several bottles cleaner, rags, sponges and gloves that he set on the counter.

Rising to his feet, he slipped on the gloves and went to work, mastering control over the dust bunnies and cobwebs; it allowed his mind to focus only on the cleaning and nothing else. It was difficult to keep his mind from the case, but it was even harder to keep his mind from lingering on a certain detective.

She wasn't like any woman or detective that he had every known, he thought as he sprayed the kitchen sink and started to scrub it with a sponge. Her insight into people and their actions were unique. When they had first met, she had come off a little cold, but with a hidden fire underneath. Now, that he had been working with her there were times when she was friendly.

He gathered the clothes that lay scattered around the apartment and by the smell that assailed his nose, needed a deep washing.

He shook his head, knowing that there was more to Lucy and he didn't know if she would ever open herself up to him. Trent had pointed out that he had been looking at Lucy differently than any other woman that had crossed his path, including Angela who had broken his heart.

He set down the dirty clothes basket near the door. He promised that he would wash his clothes in the morning because if he didn't, all he would be wearing the next day was a pair of swim trunks.

He glanced at his watch and realized that he had been cleaning for three hours and that it was a little after two in the morning. He decided that he needed to get some sleep before meeting the team in the morning. He put away the cleaning supplies, took a quick shower, dressed in an old, faded t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants, and dropped into bed.

With the cleaning and lack of sleep working on the case, he fell asleep quickly, but it wasn't pleasant with dreams of the dead Tony and Pilar accusing him of failing them. He felt someone touch his shoulder and when he turned, he saw that it was Lucy and she was smiling at him. He felt his body drop deeper into sleep as the images faded away, even though he tried to hold onto the image of Lucy, knowing that something was wrong.

"Carlos?" Trent called out as he knocked on the door to his partner's apartment for the third time. When there was no response, he pulled out his keys and inserted the correct key into the lock.

Opening the door and walking into the dark apartment, he noted the basket of dirty clothes next to the door. The morning sun shone into the apartment, revealing that the apartment had been thoroughly cleaned. The sink, the counters and even the stainless steel refrigerator were gleaming brightly without any spots.

His eyes went to the living room. The furniture and the television didn't have a speck of dust on it and he could still make out the marks made from the vacuum on the rug.

He knew that Carlos hadn't been sleeping well and when his friend couldn't sleep, he would clean. With the meticulousness of the cleaning before him, Trent knew that it would take some time for his friend to assuage the guilt of the murders of Tony and Pilar.

"Hey, Carlos, are you up yet?" He called out walking deeper into the apartment.

No answer. He looked around the room again, not noticing anything out of place. The next thought he had was that Carlos was in the shower, but when he slightly tilted his head to listen, there was only an eerie silence.

Pushing back a sense of unease, he walked across the living room and to the bedroom door. He knocked and called out his friend's name again. Waiting less than thirty seconds for a reply and not getting one, he grabbed onto the handle and opened the door.

The room was dark so Trent flipped on the light and saw the empty bed. He saw the crumpled sheets and knew that the bed had been slept in.

That feeling in his gut was beginning to burrow deeper into him as he called out his friend's name, knowing that he wasn't going to get an answer. He reached for his cell, his gaze sweeping the room, when his eyes locked onto the dark ebony nightstand. Sitting right on top was his friend's cell and he knew that something was wrong.