DISCLAIMER: Rating - PG13 (it's a murder mystery after all), for a little cussing & swearing and a body count. and Simon & Simon are not owned by me, they are owned by USA Network and CBS. This is just a stupid fan fiction and I won't make any money off of it. Enjoy!







It was just after midnight, and everyone was getting tired. Captain Brown stood just outside his office door in the nearly deserted police station, quietly talking to sergeant Nixon about the status of their computer search for the killer. Nixon felt sure he would finish his research by Monday morning. Captain Brown thanked him and sent him home, then entered his office. He found Rick and A.J. in the same spots they always occupied when left unattended in his office - Rick was seated in a chair with his feet propped up on the front of Town's desk, and A.J. sat in his cushy office chair behind the desk, reading papers he found while snooping through the drawers. Monk and Sharona were sitting on the black vinyl bench seat at the back of the office patiently waiting for Brown. Adrian had just finished cleaning all of the Captain's tennis trophies that were displayed on a small table next to their seat, and he tossed a used wipe into a nearby trash can as Town came through the door.

Captain Brown gave A.J. a stern look, and he casually moved out from behind Brown's desk and took the seat next to Rick. Well, that's about all we can do for tonight. Everything is bagged and tagged. Brown declared as he sat heavily in his vacated chair. We should all go home and get some sleep. Hell, we're the last ones here. Even the forensic techs went home almost an hour ago. He rubbed his neck, obviously tired.

Monk rose from his seat. Captain, I have an idea that might speed up our search. If our killer is staking out new territory in San Francisco, and he works for your police department, maybe he applied for a job with the S.F.P.D.? That's an awfully long drive to make every time he's searching for a new victim, so he's probably preparing to move up there permanently.

That's a damn good idea, Monk. It's worth a shot.

I'll call lieutenant Disher tomorrow morning and have him search through the recent job applications.

Great! Now get the hell out of my office. I'm calling my wife, and then I'm going home.

As they got up to leave, Town snapped And damn it A.J., stay out of my desk!

Ok, Town. A.J. replied as he exited the office. On his way out, Adrian pulled a wipe out of his jacket pocket and cleaned the spot on Town's desk where Rick had placed his feet, then followed everyone out the door.

Yeah, that's what you said last time. the Captain muttered under his breath. Ok Town'.....Damn parasites!

As they left the police station, Rick and A.J. led the way to the Camaro, which was parked on the street about a block away, followed closely by Adrian and Sharona. The night air had grown even colder, so Adrian buttoned his long brown coat while Sharona zipped up her denim jacket. Rick had rolled down the sleeves of his tan hunter's jacket earlier in the evening, and looked comfortable as he and his brother, still in his gray suit jacket, strolled down the sidewalk. The cars that had been parked on the street when they pulled up to the station were now gone, leaving the entire parking lane next to the sidewalk open and unobstructed.

As they walked in silence, Adrian noticed that, yet again, the belt on the back of Rick's jacket was loosely tied in a messy knot. Um, Rick? Hello.... Adrian waved his hand in the air, trying to get his attention.

Everyone stopped and looked at Monk. Rick asked. Adrian pointed to the back of his jacket, and immediately Rick knew what he wanted. He sighed in frustration and rolled his eyes. Ok Monk, we'll fix the damn belt, just hang on. He turned around to allow A.J. access to his belt.

Sharona laughed quietly as she watched A.J. fussing over Rick's jacket, while Rick impatiently shuffled his feet. It reminded her of the many times she made her son stand still while she adjusted his clothes before letting him leave the house.

Ok Monk, it's fixed! Rick commented sarcastically. The big bad knot is all gone!

Hey Rick, A.J. replied, if you weren't such a damn slob, he wouldn't have anything to complain about. You don't see me fixing my coat! A.J. tugged at Rick's arm. Come on, let's go.

As they continued down the sidewalk towards A.J.'s car, Adrian made sure he touched every street sign and parking meter they passed, as he could never resist touching the poles'. Sharona's thoughts turned to their difficult case. Hey Adrian, she asked, doesn't this guy usually wait a month or two in between murders?

Yes, he does. Monk replied.

So why did he kill again so soon? It's only been a week since the murder in San Francisco.

Adrian thought for a moment. He knows that I'm closing in on him, that we'll catch him very soon. He noticed a crumpled piece of paper lying in the gutter, so Adrian wrapped a wipe around his hand and moved towards the street to collect it. He knows his game is about to end, so he wanted to get one more victim before we take him down. Adrian stepped off of the sidewalk and bent down to retrieve the trash.

Rick looked back wondering why Monk had left the sidewalk, and saw him picking up the paper. That's when Rick noticed the gray, late model Toyota mini pickup, with large chrome tow mirrors on each side, moving in their direction at a high rate of speed. The driver suddenly gunned the engine and swerved to the right, heading straight for Monk, who was still standing in the street with trash in hand.

Rick reacted immediately. LOOK OUT! he yelled as he sprinted towards Adrian. A.J. grabbed Sharona and pulled her into the doorway of a nearby building as soon as he heard Rick's warning. Monk looked up at Rick, who was running towards him, then he turned and saw the truck that was about to run him down. Rick grabbed Monk by his left arm, then he spun around, flinging Adrian as hard as he could back onto the sidewalk and out of the street. Adrian landed on the ground a safe distance away, but unfortunately for Rick, this meant that he was now the only one in the path of the oncoming vehicle. The driver missed hitting Rick head on, but the tow mirror on the passenger door struck him in the ribs on his right side, breaking the mirror off the truck and violently knocking him off his feet. The driver sped down the street, leaving Rick sprawled on the pavement.

A.J. saw his brother lying motionless in the street, and immediately ran to his side. Sharona was right behind him. Rick! Are you ok?

AAHHHH! DAMN this hurts! Rick yelled, clutching his right side.

Don't move, Rick! Sharona placed a restraining hand on his shoulder as he tried to sit up. She unbuttoned his jacket and lifted up his shirt, carefully searching for injuries. Just lie still and let me take a look. Rick winced in pain as she felt along his ribs. You might have some cracked ribs, but I think you'll be ok. You still need to go to the hospital and get checked out. A.J., let's get him out of the street before another car comes along.

A.J. and Sharona carefully helped Rick into a sitting position, and were preparing to move him over to the sidewalk when A.J. suddenly realized that Adrian was missing. Hey, where's Monk? He looked around, but Monk was nowhere to be seen. Damn it! Where the hell did he go?

ADRIAN! WHERE ARE YOU? Sharona called out. She heard no answer, and became extremely worried. Oh my God, she exclaimed as an ominous thought occurred to her. I think he went after that truck! She turned to A.J. with desperation and fear in her eyes. A.J., go find him! Go find Adrian!

A.J. gave his brother a worried look, not wanting to leave him lying injured in the street. I'm ok, A.J. Rick reassured him, even though he clenched his teeth in pain. Just go!

Ok. You stay here, Sharona! Stay with Rick! A.J. took off running down the sidewalk, moving in the same direction as the truck had when the driver fled the scene. PLEASE Monk!' A.J. thought as he searched for his client, Don't try to catch this guy by yourself!'







Adrian sprinted down the sidewalk, chasing the truck that had just leveled Rick. When he saw Rick lying motionless in the street, possibly dead, he decided that he could not just sit on the pavement and watch the driver get away. So when Sharona and A.J. went to check on Rick, Adrian got up and ran after the vehicle.

Monk watched as the truck took a right turn into an alley about one hundred feet in front of him, and realized that the driver was probably going for a stashed getaway car. If Monk could get there fast enough, he might be able to catch a glimpse of the license plate on the other car, and provide an invaluable lead in their hunt for the serial killer. He guessed that the killer had hired another thug for a second assassination attempt, and if they could catch this suspect, he could probably provide crucial information about his employer. Adrian was running as fast as he could, but now he pushed himself even harder, trying desperately to reach the alley before the driver could make his escape. He raced down the sidewalk and turned the corner into the dark alley.

The old Toyota was parked on the far right side of the alley about fifty feet ahead. The driver's side door was open and the lights were off. There was a second vehicle parked in front and to the left of the truck. It was a black Ford Taurus, sitting with it's engine idling and lights on. The driver's side door of the Ford was also open. This was obviously the getaway car. Adrian crept down the gloomy alley, trying to get close enough to the Ford to read the license plate. He spotted movement in the cab of the pickup truck and froze where he stood. The hit-and-run driver, a man clad in black and wearing a ski mask and gloves, was hastily cleaning the passenger compartment of the truck with a small hand vacuum. Adrian's heart skipped a beat as he watched the suspect removing all trace evidence from the vehicle. The man in front of him was no mere hired thug, but the serial killer himself.

For a moment, Adrian was overcome by paralyzing fear. He was standing in a dark alley a mere thirty feet away from a man who had murdered at least ten people just for fun. Not only was he in close proximity to the murderer, but Adrian was by himself. He was absolutely terrified knowing that he was alone with a truly vicious man. But then Adrian remembered the crime scene he had visited just a few hours ago, how that woman had suffered before she died, and how he could have spared her that horrible death if he had just worked faster'. He thought about Rick lying motionless in the street, having paid a terrible price for saving his life. And that this man before him had come extremely close to killing Sharona just two nights ago. Adrian suddenly realized he was no longer afraid, and was surprised to discover that his fear had been replaced by seething anger. That man tried to murder his best friend, and had probably just killed Rick. Monk was determined to make sure he never hurt anyone again.

Adrian charged forward and grabbed the killer from behind as he approached his getaway car, pinning his arms to his sides and causing him to drop the vacuum. Adrian fought to maintain a tight hold on the suspect as he struggled to wrench himself free from Monk's grasp. He just could not shake Adrian loose, so the killer abruptly raised his arms straight out from his sides, causing Adrian's grip to slip up around his shoulders. He quickly ducked underneath Monk's arms and turned around, slipped his foot behind Adrian's leg to trip him, then grabbed Monk by the throat and pushed him over backwards, slamming Adrian's head into the pavement. Pain exploded in Adrian's head as he hit the asphalt, momentarily stunning him. Monk lay on the ground, trying to regain his senses.

Adrian felt something heavy land on his stomach. He opened his eyes to find the killer sitting on top of him. Then Adrian saw light glinting off the blade of the military style knife his adversary held in his right hand, and Monk knew that he was in serious trouble. He quickly raised his arms to defend himself and felt the blade bite into the palms of his hands. The killer brought the knife around again as Adrian frantically tried to fend off his attack. Adrian knew had to act fast to get this guy off of him, so he rolled hard to his left, throwing his attacker off balance for a moment.

The killer had to place his right hand on the ground to steady himself, and Monk tried to seize the opportunity to sit up and throw off his attacker. But the killer jammed his knee hard into Monk's chest and shoved him back down against the pavement. The suspect quickly swept out his left hand, pushing Adrian's arms out of their defensive position, then his right hand snaked forward, and suddenly the assailant was holding his knife to Monk's throat. Adrian felt the cold metal against his neck and immediately stopped fighting. He then slowly raised his bleeding hands, and yielded to his opponent. There was nothing he could do.

The killer placed his hand on Adrian's chest so he could reposition his knee, and felt something flat and rigid underneath Monk's shirt. With a confused look on his face, he ripped open the collar of Adrian's dress shirt to reveal the bulletproof vest he was wearing. The killer saw the protective vest and gave a sinister laugh. My, how ironic. he said sarcastically. He pressed the knife into Adrian's flesh just hard enough to make a shallow cut, causing Adrian to inhale sharply and wince in pain as blood trickled down his neck. The killer leaned forward as a wicked smile slowly spread across his face, and looked directly into Adrian's eyes. Goodbye motherfucker!


BANG!


The killer dropped the knife and clutched his left arm in pain. He looked up to see A.J. Simon standing at the end of the alley with a .357 magnum leveled at him. The killer immediately got off of Adrian and turned to run for his car.


BANG!


The killer almost stumbled over backwards as a bullet smashed into the middle of his back.


BANG!


His right shoulder lurched forward violently as another bullet slammed into him, almost knocking him off his feet. He dove into the front seat of his Ford and closed the door.


BANG! BANG! BANG!


A.J. unloaded his gun into the back of the Taurus as he sped away, shattering the rear window and punching two holes in the trunk. Adrian propped himself up on his right arm and watched the killer drive out of the alley, then he closed his eyes and slumped back against the pavement with a sigh of relief.

Someone placed a hand on his right shoulder and began to gently shake him. Adrian opened his eyes to find A.J. kneeling over him with a worried look on his face, his smoking .357 still in hand. Monk, are you all right?

Yes, I think so. His head was pounding after getting smacked against the pavement. Just a bad headache. A.J. holstered his weapon, then grabbed the front of Monk's coat and pulled him into a sitting position. Adrian groaned in pain as he sat up, which made his head hurt even worse.

Looks like you need a few stitches, too. A.J. said when he noticed the cuts on Adrian's hands. Come on, let's get you to the hospital. He produced two handkerchiefs from inside his gray suit jacket and handed them to Monk, who then wrapped them around his bloody palms. A.J. draped Monk's right arm over his shoulders and pulled him to his feet. As he stood up, Adrian was hit by a sudden wave of dizziness, and he leaned heavily on A.J. as he waited for it to pass. When his head finally cleared, they began walking back down the alley towards the street where they had left Sharona and Rick.

Adrian rubbed the sore spot on the back of his head and felt the lump developing there. A.J., we need to call Captain Brown. Tell him we finally have a solid lead he said as they made their way down the alley. I got the license plate number of the killer's car.








It was just after 2:00 am when they finally left the emergency room. It had taken almost forty stitches to close the cuts on Adrian's palms, and he left the hospital with his hands swathed in bandages. He also had a mild concussion from his head striking the pavement, and a wicked headache to match. The collar of his shirt, which lost several buttons when the killer ripped it open, was stained with blood from the shallow cut the killer's knife left on his neck. Adrian desperately wanted to take a shower and go to bed.

Captain Brown had seized Monk's brown suit jacket and overcoat as evidence, hoping that some of the blood found on them belonged to their elusive killer. Adrian told the Captain that this was doubtful, because when he grappled with the suspect, Monk could feel that he, too, wore a bulletproof vest underneath his clothes. A.J. had shot him in the left upper arm, but Adrian thought it looked like a minor injury. The suspect probably would not show up in an emergency room seeking medical attention for gunshot wounds. They did, however, find the hand vacuum that the killer dropped in the alley, so when they finally did catch up to him, at least they had concrete evidence for an attempted murder charge.

The good news of the night was that Rick managed to escape the hit-and-run episode without serious injury. He had some minor cuts and scrapes, as well as a set of badly bruised ribs, but nothing was broken, and he was allowed to leave the hospital with A.J., Sharona, and Adrian. Rick held a large bag of ice against his side as they waited for A.J. to pull the Camaro around to the ER exit.

To everyone's surprise, Monk immediately climbed into the back seat behind A.J., leaving the spacious front passenger spot for a painfully battered Rick. He thanked Adrian for his consideration and carefully stretched himself out in the front seat after Sharona settled into her seat behind him.

As they rode back to A.J.'s house, Adrian tried to relax and ignore his pounding headache. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the seat while Sharona pressed an ice pack to the back of his head. But when A.J. informed everyone of the bad news Captain Brown had given him, Adrian found that it only made his headache worse. The Toyota pickup truck was, as expected, stolen. It was pilfered less than an hour before the attempted hit. But the license plates on the black Taurus were stolen as well. The killer had lifted them off of a Lexus earlier that evening, meaning that the information Adrian had risked his life to obtain was essentially useless. Their solid lead had evaporated into thin air.

They finally arrived at the house at about 2:20 am. Everyone was tired and craved sleep. When they got inside, Sharona grabbed some pillows and a blanket, and helped Rick get settled on the couch while A.J. and Monk went to the kitchen in search of Tylenol. After making sure Rick was comfortable, Sharona bid the Simon Brothers goodnight and trudged up the stairs to her room, followed closely by an exhausted Monk.

Adrian rubbed the back of his neck as they plodded down the hallway towards their rooms. He was so busy trying to massage his sore muscles that he failed to notice Sharona had stopped in front of the door to her room, and he accidentally ran into her.

Ooof - oh, sorry. Adrian backed up a step and was about to go around, but then he noticed she was acting a bit odd. She kept her head down, deliberately hiding her face from him. She ignored him and started to open the door to her room. Is something wrong? he pressed, growing a little concerned by her behavior.

No, I'm fine she mumbled halfheartedly.

Now he knew something was wrong. Adrian leaned over and peeked beneath her mass of blonde curls, and saw that she had been crying. He placed his hand on her shoulder and turned her around to face him. Ok Sharona, what's wrong?

She claimed as she shied away. Adrian raised his eyebrows in the I know you're lying' look that she knew so well, and it reminded her that lying to Adrian Monk was futile. Damn.....why do you have to notice everything? She stomped her foot in frustration and brushed some stray hair away from her face.

Adrian continued to stare at her. She knew he would pester her all night unless she gave him an explanation for her behavior. Oh, all right. Sharona turned and faced her friend, somewhat annoyed that he had busted her. But then she fixed her gaze on Adrian's neck, and focused on the long, shallow cut that marked the exact spot where the killer had pressed the knife against his throat. She saw the bloodstained collar of his shirt, and her expression softened as she thought about how periously close he had come to becoming number eleven'.

Sharona sighed and looked directly into Adrian's eyes. I'm just glad you're not dead. She stepped forward, and surprised Adrian by wrapping her arms around his neck in a friendly hug. Then she rested her head on his shoulder and confessed, Sometimes you annoy the hell out of me, but I would have really missed you, Adrian.

Touched by this display of genuine concern, Adrian brought his right arm around and casually patted her back with a bandaged hand. He smiled and said, Well, I would have missed you, too. He removed his arm from her, but Adrian was perplexed when she made no move to release him. Then he realized Sharona was trying to hide the fact that she was crying. Adrian had no idea what to do. He knew Sharona was probably embarrassed about getting so emotional, but he thought that just saying nothing was awfully insensitive. He knew he should do or say something, but he was terribly confused as to what that something should be. So after a few awkward moments of deliberation, Adrian concluded that he really needed to show Sharona he cared about her as well. He decided to give her a hug.

I'm sorry......... she muttered into his shirt.

It's ok, Sharona. As Adrian gathered her into his arms, all of the emotions Sharona had successfully held back all week came rushing to the surface, and she quietly began to sob. Adrian wrapped his arms around Sharona and held her as she cried. After a few minutes, she was still weeping, so he decided that he should try to calm her down.

Hey, come on, Sharona. I'm not going anywhere. He reassured her as he rubbed her back. You know how hard it is to get rid of me. I'm like a bad cold, I never go away!

She gave a little laugh, having managed to compose herself, and finally let go of Adrian. She wiped her eyes and pulled a tissue out of her purse. Oh no, look what I did! Sharona pointed to the wet spot her tears had made on his shirt. Adrian was planning on throwing away the button-less, bloodstained shirt and taking shower as soon as he got to his room, so he did not mind the spot.

Adrian decided to try and cheer her up. He was terribly awkward when dealing with other people's emotions, as he semed to be rather talented at saying exactly the wrong thing and making them feel even worse. But Adrian felt he could not just leave his friend in such a fragile state. Monk held out his hand, and said Sharona produced a wipe from her purse and handed it to him. He immediately handed it back to her and said,

Sharona looked up at Adrian. He was standing there with a stupid smile on his face. Sharona stared at the wipe looking confused, then suddenly realized he had made a really lame joke. She smiled and said, Adrian, I take it back.......'how's your water?' is no longer the dumbest thing anyone has ever said to me. She began to laugh. A wipe relay'? Adrian just shrugged his shoulders. Hey, Adrian, you made a joke!

He rubbed his neck again. Well, I guess I hit my head harder than I thought!

Sharona gasped in surprise. That's two in a row! I'm impressed! She laughed, then wiped her nose with her tissue and smiled. Thanks, Adrian. They turned and headed for their respective rooms. Oh yeah, leave your door unlocked tonight. I have to check on you every few hours because of that concussion, remember? And set your alarm clock no earlier than 11:00. You need plenty of rest.

Adrian started to protest. But eleven is too -

Sharona held up her index finger, raised her eyebrows, and shot him a stern look. Adrian recognized that look as the same one Benjie receives when he tries to stay up too late on a school night.

Or, eleven is good. He backpedaled. Eleven o' clock. I'll set the alarm for eleven.

Ok then. See you tomorrow. Sharona looked at her watch. See you today! She corrected herself, then entered her room and closed the door behind her.

Adrian went to his room with a warm and pleasant feeling in his chest, thinking that, when it came to dealing with someone else's emotions, he had finally done something right.