Captain Brown stood in Sharona's hotel room, directing the actions of the crime scene unit, and talking on a cell phone. Hey, check for fingerprints on the underside of that tape! he barked at one of his forensic technicians, then resumed his telephone conversation. Adrian and A.J. were standing next to him, while Sharona sat on the couch sipping from the glass of water A.J. had given her earlier. Rick was sitting to her right, casually perched on the back of the couch with his boots on the seat cushions.

Brown handed his cell phone to Monk, and said Captain Stottlemeyer wants to speak with you.

Adrian pulled a wipe out of his pocket and covered his hand when he took the phone. He was careful not to let the phone touch his face as he spoke.

Captain Stottlemeyer's voice came over the phone. Don't worry Monk, I took care of it. Benjie and Gail are now under police protection. If he comes after them, he'll get busted.

Adrian breathed a sigh of relief. Thank you, Captain. Any luck with the 911 tape?

Nope. This is one crafty son of a bitch, Monk. Turns out, it's not even his voice on the tape. He paid some eighteen year old kid walking through the neighborhood a hundred bucks to make the call for him. He even got the kid to use his own cell phone, so even if we could trace the call, it wouldn't lead to him.

What about video surveillance footage from the gas station where he abandoned that car? Did it show anything?

Unfortunately, the station owner is too damn cheap to fix anything. Their outside camera hasn't worked for six months. We've got nothing.

Monk shook his head. No wonder Captain Brown has been so frustrated with this case.

You'll get him, Monk, keep working on it. Anyway, put Town back on, I need to talk to him again.

He handed the phone back to Brown, and moved over to the couch to sit in the open seat next to Sharona.

With a worried look on her face, she asked Adrian, What did the Captain say about Benjie? Is he ok?

Don't worry, he's taking care of Benjie and Gail. He has officers watching them twenty-four hours a day. Sharona looked relieved. Adrian wanted to ask her how she felt about what had just happened, but he was afraid he would upset her again. It had taken her nearly ten minutes to calm down after she realized just how close she had come to getting killed. To make matters worse, Rick and A.J. found the same trap waiting for Monk in his room as well, and it was now clear that their adversary had raised his game to a new level. He didn't care which one of them he killed, he just wanted Monk out of the picture. So, Adrian sat next to Sharona, fidgeting with the wedding band on his finger, trying to think of something to say. He watched Sharona take another sip of water.

Um, so....... he fumbled, his mind a total blank, how.........how's your water?

Sharona gave him a puzzled look, then slowly smiled, and began to laugh. Adrian, that has to be one of the dumbest things anyone has ever said to me.

I'm sorry, I just -

It's ok, Adrian, I'm fine. She could clearly see the look of concern etched on his face.

He turned to face her. Sharona, are you sure you want to go through with this? I mean, you could go back to San Francisco if you want.

And leave you here? Alone? I don't think so! You'd be a wreck!

Well, yeah, but, I think....I think I could handle it. He was a terrible liar, and he knew Sharona could tell he wasn't telling the truth. He would be a total basket case without her. But he felt awful that she was now in danger because of him, and he just wanted to protect her.

she said softly, putting her hand on his arm, thank you. I know what you're trying to do, and I really appreciate it. But you said yourself that this guy is just getting started in San Francisco, right? He nodded silently. Well, that means if we don't catch him now, he's just going to come after us again when we go home. I wouldn't be any safer there than I am here. She looked up at Rick, who was busy chewing on an unlit cigar. Besides, at least here, we have someone looking out for us. Stottlemeyer can't keep up the police protection forever.

Adrian looked down at his polished shoes. I just don't want you to get hurt.

Don't worry, I can handle it. Just catch this guy, ok?

There were times when Adrian truly admired Sharona's strength.

A.J. and Captain Brown approached the group on the couch, and Captain Brown knelt on the floor in front of Sharona. You ok?

I'm good.

The Captain stood up again, and the look on his face turned serious. This is not good.

Rick momentarily stopped chewing on his cigar. Hey Town, how the hell did this guy even know they were here?

Then A.J. added, How did he know which rooms they were staying in?

The Captain sighed. Well, we did ask the hotel to make advanced preparations for Mr. Monk, and that means they had to assign rooms to you in advance. The room numbers were on the reservation slips I gave to Sharona.

Sharona thought for a second, and said Maybe he works for the hotel?

Or maybe, Town replied, he's been watching the computerized records of hotel reservations in the area. I reserved your rooms last night, which gave him plenty of time to set this up.

The Simon brothers gasped in mock surprise. No, ya think? Rick joked.

Brown glared at Rick. Oh shut up. My question is, how did he get into your rooms? There was no sign of forced entry, and you can't just pick the electronic lock on the door.

Adrian provided the answer. He used the maid's key. Everyone looked at Monk. In the lobby, Rick was talking to one of the maids, who was complaining about someone stealing her key. They give the housekeeping staff a master key that will open every room in the hotel, so they can clean when the guests are away. He must have taken the key from her cleaning cart and used it to gain access to our rooms.

A.J., Rick, and Captain Brown exchanged looks of surprise. Um, I was about to say that. Rick said as he continued chewing on his cigar.

Brown scratched his jaw, then turned to A.J. Ok guys, you'd better get them out of here. And don't tell anyone where you're taking them.

Rick and A.J. answered in unison. Got it., then Rick jumped off the couch and followed A.J., who was already walking towards the door. Rick turned to Monk and Sharona. Come on guys, let's go, and they followed the Simon brothers out of the room.

Where are we going? Monk asked.

Rick looked back at Monk. You'll find out when we get there.





Adrian stood on the sidewalk, fidgeting with the buttons on his long brown coat, and stared down at the passenger seat of A.J.'s Camaro. The Simon brothers decided that the killer might recognize Sharona's car, so they insisted they leave her Volvo at the hotel and take A.J.'s vehicle instead.

They had to put the removable hard top back on the car to make room in the trunk for Monk and Sharona's luggage, which turned out to be a good thing, because Adrian Monk would not ride in a topless vehicle. He did not want all that dirty air' blowing in his face. Now he was questioning whether or not the hard top was secure. He was worried it would fly off while driving, or that the seal wasn't air tight.

Mr. Monk, A.J. said, in an attempt to reassure him, I've been driving this car for a year now, and I can assure you, the seal is air tight, and the top will stay on.

Even at highway speeds?

Even at highway speeds. I drive on the highway every day.

Come on, Adrian! Sharona called from the back seat, where she sat with Rick. Get in the damn car!

Can I have a wipe? I need a wipe. Sharona's hand materialized from the back seat and handed him the wipe. He spent five minutes cleaning the seat and the interior of the passenger door before carefully lowering himself into the car. Then he took another two minutes adjusting his seat belt. Finally, he looked over at A.J. he said tentatively, ready to go. I guess....

A.J. pulled out of the hotel's main driveway and into traffic, making sure he drove as cautiously as possible so he wouldn't upset Adrian too much. After about fifteen minutes of driving, Sharona asked So where are we going? Another hotel?

A.J. answered her from the front seat. My house, where we can keep an eye on you two. Don't worry, it's safe. We'll make sure you're comfortable. A.J. realized that Monk had not said a word since they left the hotel. He looked over to check on his passenger and saw that Adrian had his eyes tightly squeezed shut and his lips clamped together. He looked anything but comfortable.

A.J. pulled into the small residential parking area across from his house. He usually parked in his driveway, but Rick's huge, customized, Dodge Ram pickup truck, he called it the Power Wagon', was already in the driveway taking all the space. So A.J. was forced to park in the lot next to the canal that ran parallel to the back of his house. Rick and A.J. grabbed the suitcases and led their guests toward a large, two-story waterfront house with wood shingle siding, and a deck adorned with patio furniture in the back that sat right over the canal. They were approaching a wooden pedestrian bridge, about six feet wide with white hand rails on both sides, that arched over the canal and led to A.J.'s house. The Simons, laden with Monk's baggage, crossed over the bridge, and Sharona followed suit. After they reached the other side, Sharona turned around to say something to Adrian. He was still standing on the other side of the bridge. He looked down at the water in the canal, then back up at Sharona.

She sighed, and swore under her breath. She turned around again to see Rick and A.J. looking at Monk, wondering why he was just standing there. Hey guys? Could you go ahead and take the bags inside? This might take a while. She turned around and went back across the bridge to collect Monk.

Rick leaned over to A.J. and asked, What the hell is he doing?

Don't know. They set the bags on the ground and watched in curiosity.

Sharona reached Adrian's side and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. The expression on his face showed a mixture of helplessness and fear. He looked at her, then at the water under the bridge, then back at her again. Sharona knew this wasn't going to be easy.

Come on Adrian, you can do it. It's just a little bridge.

But there's water. He pointed at the canal. Under the bridge. It's a pretty long drop to the canal, too.

Adrian, you can do this.

He looked at the bridge again, then at the Simon Brothers on the other side. They were both standing there, watching intently. Adrian felt pangs of embarrassment course through him. Suffering through the anxiety attacks over something as trivial as this was bad enough, but he felt even worse when it happened in front of someone. He decided to put on a brave face and give it a try. He looked down at the perilous bridge one more time, and mustered enough courage to mutter a weak to Sharona.

She slid her right arm underneath his left, took his hand in hers, and slowly guided him onto the bridge. She spoke to him in a soothing voice, trying to encourage him. You're doing great, Adrian. Keep going, just keep going.... He squeezed his eyes shut as he clung to her in desperation and fear. Despite his rising panic, he was still moving forward, step by careful step. Take deep breaths, Adrian. Just relax and keep going, you're doing great! I'm right here....

Rick and A.J. watched the scene in utter disbelief. Town had given them a copy of the file on Monk that Captain Stottlemeyer had faxed in, and they knew that he had Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. But after watching him touch lamps and organize things at the police station, they had no reason to think it was that bad. They assumed that Monk had improved to the point where he could function in a relatively normal, but slightly odd, fashion. But now, as they witnessed how extremely difficult this simple task was for him, they realized that his problem was much more serious than they thought. The Simon brothers were getting a crash course in just how crippling OCD could be. Adrian Monk was utterly dependent on Sharona, his nurse as well as his friend, and the scene unfolding before them proved that he simply could not function without her by his side.

A.J. stood with his mouth agape. Jesus, Rick. Look at him.....

Rick just shook his head, suddenly feeling a wave of sympathy come over him. Aww A.J., I've gotta put a stop to this. He headed for the bridge.

Suspicious, A.J. grabbed him by the arm and stopped him from going any farther. Wait a minute, what are you going to do?

Rick looked at A.J., then shrugged his shoulders. Nothing much, he said innocently, thought I'd just knock him out and carry him over the bridge.

You WHAT? Oh no you're not!

Yeah, a quick sleeper hold, he goes out like a light, wakes up on the other side of the bridge. No big deal.

A.J. glared at his brother with seething anger. Rick Simon, you have just hit a new low. If you try to execute your half-baked idea, I will shoot you!

Oh come on, A.J.! he pleaded, I can't just stand here and watch the guy suffer like that! I mean, look at him. They both turned to check on Monk's progress. He was still clinging to Sharona, but despite looking absolutely terrified, he was moving forward. He's not even halfway across the damn bridge!

Well this is your damn fault, you know. If you didn't park that monstrosity of a truck in my driveway, I wouldn't have had to park on the other side of the canal!

Rick and A.J. once again turned their attention to the bridge, watching their clients slowly make their way across. The brothers suddenly felt very self-conscious about watching them, as if they were pedestrians lingering around a bad car wreck hoping to catch a glimpse of the injured victims. Rick gathered some of the suitcases under his arms. I can't watch this anymore, A.J. Why don't you stay here, in case they need any help. He started toward the house with their luggage. A.J. tried to figure out the polite way to handle such an awkward situation, and settled on just turning away, trying to act casual, and watching Rick take their bags inside.

After ten minutes of Sharona's gentle coaxing and persistent encouragement, Adrian finally made it across the bridge. He was out of breath, and beads of sweat shone on his forehead and upper lip. Sharona handed him a wipe. He wiped the sweat from his face and collected himself. Adrian looked exhausted.

Sharona patted him on the back. You see, Adrian? I knew you could do it. I am so proud of you! You did it!

Adrian finished wiping his face, then turned to face A.J.'s house. He saw the driveway, with Rick's truck monopolizing it's entire space, and realized that if they had parked there, he would not have needed to go over the bridge to get to the house. He looked at A.J., and pointed at the driveway. In a meek voice, he said Um, d-do - do you think......we could park over there, next time?






It was just after 10 pm., and everyone waited while Sharona went upstairs and prepared A.J.'s master bedroom for Monk. Sharona thought he would be most comfortable in the master bedroom because it had a separate bathroom that only Adrian would be using. A.J. had offered to help her clean up, but she insisted on doing it herself. If A.J. cleaned the room, Adrian would declare his efforts inadequate, and if she let him clean his own room, he would be working on it for hours, and no one would get any sleep. So she decided it would be best for everyone if she did it herself.

A.J. sat on one end of his beige couch, drinking a cup of hot tea. Rick sat next to his brother, with his boots on the coffee table and his arms folded across his chest. they both watched Adrian as he wandered around the room, closely scrutinizing everything he came across. He had already counted the number of books in A.J.'s bookshelves, and was now looking at the framed family pictures that were displayed on various surfaces about the living room.

A.J. leaned over to Rick, and spoke in a hushed voice. Do you really think he can solve this case? I mean, I know Town spoke highly of him, and the San Francisco cops think he can damn near walk on water. But, after that little episode' on the bridge, I don't know if he's even capable of working, much less solving a complicated case like this one.

Just hang on, A.J. A few minutes ago, I would have agreed with you. But now.....just look at him. Rick watched with great interest as Adrian moved about the room examining everything in sight. He wandered over to a sturdy set of floor-length, built-in cabinets on the far left side of the living room. This guy's a lot smarter than you think. Look at his eyes, A.J., he's not missing anything. They continued to observe as Adrian pulled a silver pen from inside his jacket. He used the pen to gently tap on the cabinet on the left, then he ran his hand all around the edges, leaned in close to peer underneath the shelf attached to the right side of the cabinet, and spotted the very well-hidden combination lock.

A.J. couldn't believe what he was seeing. Holy shit!

Rick looked at his brother, and grinned. He just found your secret gun safe. He chuckled. You still think he can't solve a case?

I stand corrected!

Sharona finally emerged from the stairs leading to the bedrooms. Ok Adrian, all done. The room's ready.

He crossed the room to stand next to her. Is it clean?

Sparkling. Can we please go to bed now? I'm really tired.

You aren't going to clean your guest room?

She regarded him with rising impatience. It's clean enough! Come on, Adrian, go to bed. I know I am. She went over to the couch to thank their host. Thanks for letting us stay here, A.J.

No problem, you're both more than welcome to stay here. If you need anything, we'll be sleeping out here on the couches. Goodnight.

Goodnight guys. She started up the stairs.

Adrian started to follow her, but suddenly he stopped, turned around, walked back to the couch, and stood in front of them. A.J. and Rick looked up at him. It was obvious he wanted to say something, but for some reason he was hesitant to speak. A.J. decided to break the awkward silence. Mr. Monk, is there something you want to say?

He looked nervous. Um, I'm not very good at this, but.... His gaze wandered about the room, but finally settled on the two men seated before him. I'm sorry about your mother.

Rick and A.J. looked at each other in shock. They couldn't believe what they just heard. Rick sat up, wondering what Adrian was going to say next. What about our mother, Monk?

Well, she died very recently. He paused for a moment, then continued. It must be hard for you. I'm sure you were both very close to her, especially after losing your father at such an early age......

A.J.'s jaw dropped open. But, I....well.....how did you know all that?

You have twenty-four family photos on display, showing you two, and this woman that is obviously your mother. But almost all of these pictures around the room are new, about a week old. I saw the receipt for the frames in the kitchen trash can, you bought them a week ago. So that means you just put them up. Usually people gradually add one or two photos at a time to their home, but you added twenty at the same time. The only reason why someone would suddenly choose to display so many photographs of a single loved one is because that person has just passed away.

And Dad?

Well, three of these photos are about forty years old,and they show you two as children, your mother, and this man here. He's obviously your father. He pointed to one of the older photographs, and singled out a man that looked remarkably like A.J. But he doesn't appear in any other pictures. He's only in these three, very old photos. If your father had lived well past the time when these three pictures were taken, you would have at least one picture of him that's more recent than these here.

Neither Rick nor A.J. said anything.

So, I'm, um.....sorry about your mother. He paused, then wished them goodnight, and went upstairs to his room.

Rick and A.J. sat on the couch in stunned silence for several minutes. Eventually, A.J. slowly turned his head and looked at Rick, who appeared to be just as shocked and amazed as he was. All A.J. could say was,

Rick sighed, pushed his hat back, pulled a cigar from inside his jacket, and started chewing on it. I'll take first watch. Get some sleep, A.J.