Silent Memories
by Violette
Part 9
The shadows cast by the building hid him from view, the flickering streetlight not bright enough to penetrate the cloaking darkness. Ezra had chosen this early hour of the morning, when few people were likely to be about, to put his plan into action. He had been standing in this spot just down the block from his apartment building for half an hour, watching for any signs of surveillance. Other than a patrol car passing by, he had seen nothing to indicate that his building was being watched. Taking one last, careful look, he stepped out of the shadows and walked nonchalantly toward his objective.
Not for the first time, Ezra cursed his lack of hearing. He had never realized how much he took that particular sense for granted. Now that he was attempting to be stealthy, he noticed its absence more than ever. It was unnerving, being unable to hear anyone approaching; no footsteps, no voices, no engine noises, no foliage rustling, no fabric brushing together – nothing. This time, he would have to utilize his other senses to prevent himself from being detected.
His eyes darting around nervously, Ezra made his way toward the vehicle that was his target. After the hit-and-run, no one had bothered to move Nathan's Blazer from the spot across the street from his apartment where it was parked. Ezra knew his own vehicle was far too easy to track down, and he was counting on the fact that his teammates had probably forgotten about Nathan's truck during the flurry of activity surrounding the attacks. By his estimates, it would be at least a day or two before anybody thought to retrieve the vehicle, and by then, he would be at his hideaway, safe from prying eyes, overprotective teammates, and murderous miscreants.
Ezra smiled to himself as he reached under the left rear corner of the truck, his searching fingers quickly locating the small magnetic box. Nathan was nothing if not practical. After locking his keys in the car once while rushing to a bust, he had had a duplicate key made so that he would be prepared if it ever happened again. Hidden in the tiny metal case tucked in a corner underneath the vehicle, it was difficult to find... unless you knew it was there. At another bust, Nathan had again locked himself out of the truck, and Ezra had witnessed his retrieval of the spare key, filing the information away for future reference.
A brief flash of guilt washed over him at his actions, but Ezra figured his teammates would understand. They would yell at him and likely dispense some form of retribution, but he believed they would understand why he had done what he did. He sighed quietly as he started the truck. It wasn't like Nathan would miss the vehicle. In his present condition, he wasn't going to be able to drive any time soon.
The place he was headed was nearly two hours outside of Denver. Ezra smiled at the thought that his hidden retreat was located at nearly the same distance away from the city as Vin's – and not too far away from the other man's cabin, at that. As he was beginning to discover, he and the sharpshooter had much more in common than he previously believed.
During his brief stay at Vin's cabin, he had learned a lot about the other man, much of which had been surprising. It was strange, yet comforting, to discover so many similarities in a man who appeared to be so different from himself. Ezra wondered if, perhaps, they shared the same need for solitary reflection that had brought him to seek out his own refuge from the world. As he drove the purloined vehicle toward the mountains, Ezra let his mind wander, thinking about the first time he had made this drive.
It was only his first month in Denver, and he was finding it hard to adjust to his new job and his new teammates. After the way he had left Atlanta, he was still wary of the six men with whom he worked, unsure of his place among them. He was afraid that they would somehow find him lacking, as his former associates had done, and this 'new beginning' would be over before it ever got started. The disastrous ending of his first case with them earlier that day seemed to make it a certainty that he would soon be asked to leave.
Ezra had not sensed any problems, but Murphy's Law had struck full force and their case against a notorious weapons merchant seemed to disintegrate around him, leaving him standing alone amidst the rubble of the operation. The shit immediately hit the fan and then landed squarely on Ezra P. Standish, sullying his already-tarnished reputation. It was another blow to his already- damaged ego and he found himself on the verge of simply giving up.
Ezra sighed sadly as he remembered that day. After the planned bust had fallen apart, he had spent the day having his ass chewed by everyone from the Director to the members of his own team. Everyone had taken a turn yelling, berating, and chastising him for his failure, and by the end of the day, he was feeling worthless and depressed. He had left the office that day, feeling the glares boring into his back, and wondering if he still had any chance of a future with the team.
His apartment held no appeal for him that evening, so Ezra climbed into his car and started to drive with no particular destination in mind. Eventually, he found himself far away from the city lights, driving on darkened roads that seemed to have no end. Weariness eventually brought a temporary end to his aimless journey, when he spotted a small motel along the lonely road and realized how drained he was from the hellish day he had endured. He rented a room and fell into a restless sleep soon after his head hit the pillow, hoping that the world would seem more welcoming in the morning.
Ezra greeted that Saturday morning much earlier than he would have on a normal weekend day, much to his chagrin. His sleep had been fitful and he still felt sluggish and weary, but with nothing better to do, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower. Within an hour, he had checked out of the motel and headed off in search of breakfast. The desk clerk had recommended a small diner a couple of miles down the road, so he turned his car in that direction, finding it without difficulty.
It was a clean enough place and Ezra decided it would do for breakfast. While his order was being prepared, he sipped the surprisingly good coffee and flipped idly through the local real estate circular. There were many cabins and small, rustic homes being offered in this rural area, none of which interested him, since he had no desire to reside so far from the city. He tossed the magazine aside when the waitress arrived with his french toast and eggs, paying it no further heed until he was ready to leave.
He was reaching for his coat when he glanced at the circular, a small, grainy picture on the back cover catching his attention. Donning his coat, he snatched the circular from the table, smiling and thanking the waitress as he made his way out the door. Once he was settled in his car, he perused the small ad intently.
The image that had drawn his interest was of a would-be ski lodge that had not been completed. According to the description, there was no ski area nearby, either, and Ezra suspected that it was a project whose funding had fallen through. The building had been finished enough to protect it from the elements, but was not in a condition that would interest most people.
"Handyman's special," he read aloud, snorting sarcastically. Normally that would have been enough to kill his interest, but the Swiss-chalet design of the structure reminded him of a vacation home Maude's third husband had owned near Geneva. Ezra had actually liked that stepfather and had pleasant memories of the chalet.
The price for the building and the property on which it sat was absurdly low, so Ezra decided to go and take a look at it. He had nothing else planned for the day and he figured it would at least divert his mind from his current problems for a little while.
Ezra pulled up in front of his hideaway and smiled. He remembered his first view of the place on that day more than a year ago.
It was worse than he expected, looking forlorn and lonely, just like he was feeling that day. The part of the house that had been completed was in good condition and showed the obvious signs of quality construction. Equally obvious, though, was the flat, boarded up rear part of the building, where the builder had hastily halted construction when his funding ran short.
The real estate agent who was showing him the property was unenthusiastic, apologizing for wasting his time, but Ezra decided that he liked the place, even though it would require some work before it was usable. The flabbergasted look on the realtor's face when he told him calmly, "I'll take it," had given him something to smile about for the first time in days.
Ezra drove back to Denver with a lighter heart. Nothing had really changed, but he was inexplicably pleased about his new purchase and felt the faint stirrings of hope that maybe his future wasn't so bleak after all. Maybe it was because he had something that belonged to him alone; something that no one else knew about, and thus, couldn't take away from him. At the very least, he now had a refuge waiting for him if his life became too unpleasant.
His hideaway in the hills was definitely a work in progress, much as his own life was at the moment, but Ezra was actually beginning to feel somewhat optimistic about the potential of both. It might very well turn out to be a delusion of his weary mind, but, for the moment, it was all he had to hold on to. With a silly grin on his face, Ezra drove back to the city, his mind filled with renovation plans for his new sanctuary – and for his career.
The renovations on the house had indeed taken several months of work, but he now had himself a spacious, two-story chalet tucked up against a small mountain. There was even a lake on the property, and he indulged himself in the occasional use of a jet ski he had purchased in one of his more whimsical moments. Ezra nodded to himself, deciding that he would invite Vin to visit, once he was free of the hospital. The sharpshooter might have some good ideas for finishing the extra rooms he had added as an afterthought while completing the renovation of the building. And besides, it was only fair to reciprocate the kindness shown to him by the other man.
Vin looked up at the sound of the door opening, smiling when he saw JD peeking around the doorframe. "Hey, JD."
"Hi Vin," JD said cheerfully, stepping fully into the room. "I wasn't sure if you were awake. Didn't want to wake you if you were still sleepin'."
"Hell, all I been doin' is sleepin'," Vin groused.
JD chuckled. "Nathan said the same thing. I don't think he minds too much, though. It keeps his mind off of his leg."
Vin grimaced in sympathy. "I think I'd rather get shot. Less down time that way."
"Poor Nate's already getting cranky," JD remarked. "He's going to be real bear in a couple of weeks if they keep him in that traction thing."
"Maybe he'll learn to be more sympathetic next time one of us gets stuck in here," Vin said with a grin.
"I doubt it." JD said shook his head. "You and Ez'll just have to keep practicing your escape techniques."
"You have any luck finding him yet?" Vin asked.
"Not yet," JD said with a sigh. "He really went to ground this time. I'm really worried about him."
"He's good at hiding," Vin commented.
"Yeah, but I think I might have an idea on how to find him," JD said tentatively.
"Yeah?"
"Well," JD said hesitantly. "When both of you took off, I started looking into some things for Chris, ya know, to find you guys...." He trailed off, looking embarrassed.
"What kind of things?" Vin asked guardedly, not sure if he liked the younger man's tone.
"I checked real estate records," JD admitted. "I found out you and Ez both own some property. His was harder to track down than yours, since he had it registered under a holding company, but I managed to find it anyway."
"Did you tell Chris?"
"No," JD said. "I thought about it, but then I figured it wasn't anyone's business where you went."
"Thanks." Vin leaned back and smiled, relieved that his cabin was still something of a secret. It wasn't so much that he wanted to keep it from his friends, he simply wasn't quite ready to share such a private place with the rest of them yet. Ezra had understood. Vin had known, somehow, that he would. The two of them shared a similar need for solitude and privacy, something he had recognized in the reticent undercover agent almost from the start.
"I just know how much of a pain the guys can be when you're sick or hurt." He shrugged. "We're all adults. We should be able to go where we want, when we want, without them breathing down our necks."
"You got that right," Vin agreed. "That's why I never told you guys about my place."
"I figured," JD said with a grin. "You think Ez holed up at his own 'vacation house'?"
"Yeah," Vin said with a nod. "I was waitin' 'til I could get out of here to go check it out."
"You ain't exactly in the greatest shape to be chasin' around after Ez."
"Maybe not, but I didn't want to tell anyone about him havin' a hideout somewhere," Vin said. "He wouldn't tell anyone about my cabin, so it wouldn't be fair to tell anyone about his place."
"I was thinking about going out there myself," JD said. "You think he'd get mad at me? Ya know, intruding on his privacy and stuff?"
"Nah," Vin assured him. "Long as you don't bring the rest of the crew along."
"Not a chance," JD said with a snort. "I wouldn't do that to Ez."
Vin laughed, then gripped his chest and grimaced. "Damn that smarts."
"Sorry, Vin," JD said, chagrined to have caused his friend pain.
Vin waved off his concern, taking a few shallow breaths until the pain subsided. "So where's Ez's place at, anyway?"
Grinning, JD pulled out the information he had gathered.
"Buck!" Chris called to the other man as he hurried into the bullpen, making a beeline toward his office.
Buck looked up from his computer, tilting his head quizzically.
Chris motioned toward his open door, striding through it without a backward glance, certain that Buck would be right behind him.
Buck followed quickly. "You bellowed?"
"Got a possible lead on our bad guy," Chris said, handing him a rap sheet.
Buck glanced over the information and frowned. "Benny Silva? I thought he was in for ten?"
Chris gave a disgusted snort. "The asshole turned informant. He ratted out a couple of bigger fish and got his sentence reduced. He was only in prison for eight months."
"How come nobody told us about this?" Buck looked up, anger flashing in his eyes.
"He wasn't that big a player," Chris said. "Nobody took him too seriously."
"Shit," Buck said, rubbing his moustache thoughtfully. "You think he's our guy?"
"It's possible," Chris said with a sigh. "He was a vicious little bastard, even if he didn't have that much clout."
"He did make a lot of threats against Ezra," Buck agreed. "He wasn't too happy to find out that his new best buddy was an ATF agent."
"No kidding," Chris said, remembering the litany of foul curses and threats that had issued form the diminutive man as they arrested him.
"Do we know where he is?"
"I have Josiah checking with his parole officer right now," Chris replied. "I want you to check out this list of his favorite hangouts and known associates."
"I'm on it," Buck said, taking the list as he headed for the door.
"Have you seen JD?" Chris asked. "I want him to start checking for car registrations and such."
"He said something about stopping by the hospital this morning, but I haven't seen him since."
"Well, if you see him, tell him to give me a call," Chris said.
"Will do, bossman," Buck said with a grin as he set off to start his task.
Chris sighed, rubbing his temples as he stared at the picture of Bento Silva. This was the first solid lead they had come up with and Chris was determined to chase it down as quickly as possible. With Ezra's location unknown, he wanted to eliminate the threat before it caught up with his missing agent. He wished Ezra had not taken off the way he had. "What was he thinking?" he asked aloud, turning to look out his office window.
Chris closed his eyes, knowing exactly what the southerner had been thinking. He had felt the same way after his family had been violently ripped from him, but instead of physically isolating himself, he had sought his refuge in a bottle. Guilt was a powerful emotion, capable of driving a man to extremes. Chris watched as a fluffy cumulus cloud drifted across the small slice of the sky visible from his window. He understood all too well what the other man was feeling, but that didn't mean he had to like it.
The sun was leaking around the edges of his curtains when Ezra finally opened his eyes. Groggily, he squinted against the brightness in his room. A quick glance at the clock on the nightstand had his eyes widening in surprise. Two in the afternoon was late to awaken, even for him. Of course, he did have an unusually long night.
Stretching carefully, Ezra climbed out of bed, feeling more relaxed than he had since leaving Vin's cabin. There was still an undercurrent of worry for his teammates, but he didn't feel like he had to spend every second looking over his shoulder, like he had back in the city. This was his place and no one would be disturbing him here.
After luxuriating in the shower, he made himself some french toast and sat in the sunroom off of the kitchen, sipping his coffee while he enjoyed the view of the lake. Ezra's thoughts wandered to his teammates – and how furious they probably were with him now. A smirk formed on his face as he pictured Chris ranting and raving over his absence. He did regret causing them any distress, but it was for the best, whether they believed it or not. This way, everyone was safe while his injuries healed and he regained his ability to defend himself.
Ezra finished his coffee and stood, carrying the cup into the kitchen, where he placed it in the dishwasher he had installed during his renovations. Washing dishes had always been one of his least favorite kitchen tasks, so he had allowed himself the luxury of a dishwasher. After all, he had never meant for this place to be an exercise in 'roughing it.'
He strolled out into the spacious living room, stopping at one of the tall oak bookshelves to select a book. Over the years, Ezra had amassed a substantial number of books, many of which he had never found the time to read. After he had finished the renovations on the house, he had moved most of the extensive collection here, since his apartment was too small to house all of them and he would have otherwise had to put them in storage.
As he turned around, intending to take a seat on the couch, Ezra noticed the handle on his front door turning. Dropping the book, he dove to the side, reaching into one of the end tables. He withdrew a gun and crouched behind the sofa, his heart racing as he waited for the intruder to come into view. After a tense moment, his grip on the gun loosened and he sagged with relief. Pushing himself to his feet, Ezra tucked the gun into his waistband and went to meet his visitor.
"Mr. Dunne," he said, cocking his head to the side curiously. "This is a surprise."
"Hey, Ez," JD said, giving him an embarrassed wave. "Sorry to just barge in, but I didn't figure you'd hear me knocking."
"That is true," Ezra allowed. "Please, do come in."
"Thanks." JD walked inside, his gaze roaming around the large room. "This is a nice place."
"Thank you," Ezra replied. "Have a seat."
JD dropped into one of the overstuffed chairs and craned his neck, looking upwards. "I always liked cathedral ceilings."
Ezra smiled as he took his own seat. "So what brings you to my humble abode?" He didn't bother asking how JD had found out about the place, since he knew how intelligent the younger man was and how resourceful could be when he wanted.
"I was worried about you," JD admitted, looking somewhat abashed at the admission.
"The others don't know that you're here?"
"Just Vin," JD answered, shaking his head. "I talked with him this morning. I wanted to get his opinion about coming out here, since I found out about his property too."
Ezra lifted an eyebrow and grinned. "You've been busy."
JD flushed, shrugging awkwardly. "I found out when I was looking for you guys last week."
"And you didn't tell anyone else?"
"No," JD said. "I didn't figure it was anyone else's business... no matter how much they think it is."
Ezra chuckled. "I'm glad you feel that way."
"I wanted to come out here to make sure you were okay, though," JD said, holding up his hand to forestall the protest he knew was forthcoming. "I know you can take care of yourself, but even you have to sleep sometime."
"You do have a point there," Ezra said, smiling faintly in amusement. "Though, I doubt anyone else will find us here. Most people aren't as resourceful as you, JD."
JD smiled, warmed by the compliment and the fact that Ezra had used his first name.
"It might be a good idea to inform Mr. Larabee that I am indeed alive and well," Ezra said with a sigh. "It would be rude to worry them unnecessarily, especially since you have now disappeared from their purview as well."
"Yeah, I suppose I should call them," JD agreed with a nod. "I won't tell 'em where we are, though."
"They won't appreciate that," Ezra warned with a smirk.
"That's their problem," JD said, grinning broadly.
"I believe I am a corrupting influence on you, my friend," Ezra said, clapping the younger man on the shoulder.
Still smiling, JD pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial.
"Dammit!" Chris cursed, pacing the length of Vin's hospital room agitatedly before turning on his heel and striding back to the other end. "He didn't tell you anything?" He listened for a minute, his frown deepening. "Let me know if you find anything." Frustrated, Chris stabbed the off button on his phone and snapped it shut, barely resisting the urge to throw it across the room.
"Problems?" Vin asked quietly from the bed. He had a good idea why his friend was so irritated, but he wanted to find out for sure.
Chris stepped closer to the bed and dropped into the nearby chair with a sigh. "JD found Ezra, but he won't tell us where he is."
Vin tried to hide his smirk but wasn't quite successful.
Chris's eyes narrowed and he gazed at the bedridden man suspiciously. "You know something about this?"
Vin grinned mischievously. "Maybe."
Chris saw the stubborn and determined look in his friend's eyes and knew he would get nothing more out of him. He muttered another curse, making Vin grin even wider.
"Relax, cowboy. They'll be fine," Vin said confidently.
Chris ran a hand over his face. "Can't help worrying about them. They both attract more than their share of trouble." He turned to Vin and smiled faintly. "So do you, for that matter."
"Comes with the job, pard," Vin reminded him.
"Yeah." Chris nodded, acknowledging the truth of the statement. "I just wish you guys didn't get more than your share of it."
JD dropped onto the sofa with a frown, annoyed with his roommate. Buck had completely dismissed him, as if he were too incompetent to watch out for Ezra himself. He fingered his phone, then shoved it into his pocket with a sigh. It was something he should be used to by now. Except for his computer skills, his teammates often discounted his abilities, forgetting that he was a fully-qualified agent, just like them. JD understood that he was the youngest and expected some amount of grief from his older workmates, but sometimes it really got to him. He was twenty-six years old, after all, and he had paid his dues as a beat cop on the streets of Boston. He was no rookie, even if the others treated him that way.
"Something troubling you, Mr. Dunne?" Ezra noticed the distracted look on his young associate's face as he entered the living room with two cups of coffee.
"Thanks, Ez," JD said, taking the coffee gratefully.
Nodding his head in acknowledgement, Ezra took a seat on the other end of the sofa.
"I called Buck," JD said after taking a sip of his coffee.
"I take it he was less than appreciative of your success at locating me?"
JD gave him a wan smile. "You could say that. He kept pushing me to tell him where you were." He looked away and ran his finger along the side seam of his jeans. "I just get tired of him – them – always treating me like I don't know anything. Like, I'm some kind of idiot who can't do anything without them holding my hand."
"It is difficult to deal with a lack of trust in one's abilities... for whatever reason," Ezra said knowingly.
JD looked at him thoughtfully for a minute, then nodded slowly. Of all of them, Ezra probably understood the best, having had his own abilities called into question on many occasions. That was probably the reason the undercover agent treated him as an equal. Their older teammates were usually overprotective, but Ezra never acted as if he was anything other than a competent agent.
"They will figure it out eventually, JD," Ezra said reassuringly. "It will just take some time."
"I know." He quirked a grin at Ezra. "Still annoying, though."
Ezra laughed, in complete agreement with his young compatriot. "The trick is to aggravate them in turn."
JD grinned. "I'll remember that."
"So, was Mr. Wilmington terribly annoyed with us?"
"Yeah," JD answered. "He said they have a lead on someone who might be behind all of this crap."
"And who might that be?"
"Benny Silva," JD replied. "Seems he got out of jail early by selling out his old pals."
Ezra rolled his eyes. "The wheels of justice don't always turn the way we want them to."
"You think he's the one?"
Ezra frowned, recalling his interactions with the abrasive man. "It's possible, but I don't think it's him. It's not his style."
"Why not?" JD asked curiously. "He was a pretty nasty character."
"Yes, he was," Ezra agreed. "But he would want to confront me before killing me. He was arrogant, and I believe he would want me to know it was him in order to prove his superiority. The man thrived on power and control and he would want to flaunt such a success – throw it in my face, if you will." He shook his head. "These attempts on me have been more impersonal. Whoever is doing this doesn't care that I don't know who he is. He just wants me dead."
"That makes sense," JD said, nodding. "Do you have any idea who it might be?"
"Not yet," Ezra said, frustration evident on his face. "I was planning to continue my research once I arrived here." He gestured toward the laptop computer sitting on the end table near the couch.
"I can help," JD said. "I brought my laptop, too."
"I'd appreciate that, JD," Ezra said sincerely.
JD smiled and jumped up, racing outside to retrieve his computer from the storage compartment on the back of his motorcycle.
Ezra watched him go, smiling faintly at the young agent's level of enthusiasm. Between the two of them, they should be able to find out who was trying so hard to kill him... before anyone else fell victim to his persistent attempts.
Chris glared through the one-way glass at the greasy-looking man sitting inside. "That was quick. Where'd you find him?"
"He was in a, um, compromising position with one of the local streetwalkers at the Blue Moon Motel," Buck said with a smirk. "One of his buddies at that strip club down on Weld St. told me he usually picks up some 'company' on the weekends."
"I bet he wasn't too happy at the interruption," Chris said, the corners of his lips turning up in a faint smile.
Buck snorted. "Not by a long shot."
Chris grinned at his friend. "Shall we?"
"After you, big dog," Buck said with a laugh, gesturing toward the door.
Buck and Chris entered the interrogation room, much to the dismay of Benny Silva.
JD stood and stretched, flushing in embarrassment when his stomach rumbled loudly. His discomfiture was short-lived, however when he remembered that Ezra would not have heard his stomach's complaint. It was odd how he could so easily forget that his friend was deaf. Ezra seemed to manage it so well. JD shuddered at the thought of what it must be like to lose your hearing. He didn't think he would be so calm about it, but maybe Ezra's previous experience made it easier somehow.
"Is something wrong, Mr. Dunne?"
"Huh?" JD turned to find Ezra watching him with concern. "Oh, I was just daydreaming." He grinned sheepishly, not about to disclose his thoughts to the other man.
Ezra grinned, then glanced at his watch. "I don't know about you, but I am about ready for dinner."
"I could eat," JD agreed with a nod.
Ezra stood and headed for the spacious kitchen. Curious to see another part of the house, JD followed.
"Wow, this is great, Ez!" JD said as he stepped through the doorway into the room. The kitchen was large, with skylights in the ceiling to provide natural lighting during the day. It was dark outside now, but the kitchen was well-lit by a multitude of recessed lights. Dark blue countertops lined the walls, complimenting the stainless steel appliances. Yellow and white tiles and matching curtains gave the room a sense of warmth, making it feel welcoming and comfortable rather than sterile and utilitarian.
"Thank you," Ezra said, pleased by the appreciative glances his friend was giving the room.
"You must like to cook," JD remarked, gesturing toward the six-burner stovetop and the two large, built-in ovens.
"I do," Ezra replied. "But most of this was here when I bought the place. It was destined to be a ski lodge, so the facilities were designed to accommodate cooking for large groups." He shrugged. "I decided not to change it... though I did put another bedroom upstairs instead of the second kitchen that was in the original plans."
"I like it," JD said. "You have lots of room to work in here."
"Do you enjoy cooking?" Ezra looked at him curiously.
JD reddened slightly and shrugged. "Yeah. I used to cook a lot after my mom got sick. Got pretty good at it, but I don't do it much now, 'cause Buck's always making jokes about how bad my cooking is." He snorted. "Just because I burned a frozen pizza once in that broken-down excuse for an oven we've got. It's not my fault the thermostat has a mind of its own."
Ezra grimaced. "That would make cooking somewhat more difficult."
"It's a lot easier when you have the right tools," JD agreed, looking with interest at some of the pots and pans hanging on a rack above his head.
"Feel free to indulge yourself while you're here." Ezra grinned and waved his arm around the kitchen.
"I might just take you up on that," JD said with a smirk.
"I'm afraid my supplies are a bit limited at the moment," Ezra said apologetically. "I was planning to do just a simple pasta tonight."
"That sounds good," JD said. "I can make some garlic bread?"
"Be my guest."
JD reached for the loaf of French bread that sat on the counter near the cook top and set to work.
"Goddamnsonofabitch!" Buck cursed as he slammed down the telephone.
Chris looked up and sighed. "Let me guess. His alibi panned out."
"You got it," Buck said, frustration evident in his voice. "He was meeting with his parole officer when the drive by happened, and he was working at his cousin's garage when the warehouse blew up."
"Guess that means we're back at square one," Chris said gloomily. They had spent the previous evening interrogating Benny Silva, but the man had held firm to his story. Chris had been hoping that he was their man, so they could put an end to threat to his team. Now, unfortunately, they had to start over.
They sat silently for a few minutes, pondering their next step until Buck finally broke the silence. "What's the word on Vin and Nathan?"
Chris chuckled. "Chomping at the bit to get out of the hospital."
"I'll bet."
"Has JD checked in yet today?"
"Not yet," Buck answered. "I was waiting until I checked out Silva's alibi before I tried calling him."
"See if you can convince him to bring that dumbass southerner back here," Chris said. "I want him where we can protect him."
"I'll try, but he's damn near as stubborn as Ezra."
Chris rolled his eyes and headed for his office, muttering about the "damn fool idiots" he had on his team.
His cell phone rang, and after checking the calling number, JD debated whether or not he was going to answer. Buck had ticked him off with his attitude the last time they spoke, and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear any more of that. Finally, though, he decided to answer, since he knew that Buck would just keep calling until he did. "Yeah, Buck," he said into the phone.
"Hey, kid," Buck said. "How's everything with you guys?"
"We're fine, just like I said we would be."
Buck groaned inwardly, realizing that he must have offended his roommate somehow. "Got some news for ya. Turns out Benny Silva's not our guy." Buck let out a frustrated sigh. "We picked him up last night, but he had an alibi for the warehouse and for the shooting."
"Damn," JD said with a frown. "Any other suspects looking good?"
"Not yet," Buck replied, then after a pause, "Look, kid... we'd feel a lot better if you guys would get back here where we can back you up."
"Buck," JD began. "We're fine where we are. Nobody'll find us here."
"Yeah, but...."
"No, Buck," JD said determinedly. "We're both capable agents. We can take care of ourselves. I'll see ya whenever I get back." With that, JD clicked off his phone.
On the other end, Buck hung up his own phone, chuckling and shaking his head.
"What's so funny?" asked Josiah, who had just returned from the hospital.
"JD," Buck replied. "He's been hangin' around the rest of us mule-headed bastards way too much."
Josiah laughed aloud. "Well, at least we know he's learning something."
TBC