Disclaimer in chapter 1
Chapter 2-And the Plot Thickens
I sent Sydney home in a cab, telling her to come back early in the morning so we could go over the case with Weiss. Why I said early I have no clue, he was never in earlier than 9:00. Anyway, so I was sitting there going over the case, holding a cigar that had long since smoldered down to little more than embers when it happened.
One minute I was in my office, minding my own business, and the next, some joker ran by and shot the window out! I ran out the door, hoping to catch him, but it was too late-tires were squealing as the getaway car peeled out. Anywhere else, I would have been able to get the license plate number or maybe the color and make of the car, but the streetlight outside my office had been burnt out for months, leaving the entire block bathed in shadows.
Shaking my head, I walked back inside to survey the damage. A quick look told me everything I needed to know. There was no way they'd been shooting to kill, the bullet was lodged into the wall by the coat rack, not the wall behind my desk. This had been a scare tactic, but whoever was behind it had made a serious miscalculation. I don't scare easy, and when people try it just makes me curious. If I hadn't already promised Sydney I'd help her old man out of this jam, there would be no keeping me from it now.
However, they did succeed in doing one thing. I knew now that this case was even more urgent than I had thought. Resting my hip on the edge of the desk, I picked up the phone and rang a familiar number. I let it ring fifteen times before I hung up and tried again. Finally, he picked up on the twelfth ring. "This had better be God calling to tell me today is get in free day," Weiss growled into the mouthpiece.
"Yeah, and you still don't qualify," I retorted.
"Vaughn!!" he spat out angrily. "What are you doing calling me at 0 dark hundred hours in the morning!"
"Well, I was wondering if you could call the glazer before you come to work in the morning," I said nonchalantly as I moved from the desk to my chair.
"The wha-huh? Speak English, it's too early for big words." His words were still slurred slightly with sleep, and I could picture his befuddled expression as clearly as if he was sitting in front of me.
"The office window needs to be replaced." I chuckled to myself when I said it; I knew he wouldn't make the connection this early in the morning, but it was fun baiting him like this.
"And you're calling me now to tell me this? Vaughn, it's still [b]dark[/b] outside!" he whined.
"Well, I thought I ought to tell you, since someone just took a shot at me," I replied mildly. I leaned back in my chair, grinning as I waited for the explosion.
"What?? Why didn't you say so? Are you hit?" he asked then answered his own question. "No of course not, you wouldn't be so calm if you'd been hit. So what happened?"
"Well I was just sitting here thinking after our latest client went home when some bozo came running by and shot the window out. I tried to catch him."
"Wait a minute, what latest client? I thought we cleared all our cases on Monday."
"We did, but now we've got something new. I guess I should start at the beginning of the story, huh?"
"That might help," he replied wryly. "Wait, is this a long story?"
"It could be," I hedged.
I heard him sigh into the phone before he spoke. "Then just come on over. I'll get dressed and make a pot of coffee and you can fill me in."
Hm, might cut it down to 2 hours. Mostly they talk about the case. Weiss wants all the details. Come to think of it, there aren't many yet. I think a good chunk of the time is Weiss berating Vaughn for getting involved with Sydney again. hehe, involved. And of course Vaughn will mention something about how good she looks...
Thirty minutes later I was walking up the narrow staircase to Eric's apartment. Looking down the dingy hallway, I just shook my head. Business wasn't huge, but we made enough that he could afford to get a better place than this. Every time it came up, he just dug in his heels and said, "I like it here, Vaughn. No one bothers me. If I moved, I'd have nice neighbors sticking their heads in my door all the time, trying to be social. No thanks!"
Before I could even knock, Eric had the door open. "Why can't I ever see a gorgeous dame outside my door at 2:00 a.m.? Instead, all I get is your ugly mug," he groused. "Well, we might as well get started. Make yourself comfortable, I'm going to get myself a cup of coffee."
I stepped into the sparsely furnished living room that illustrated once more how much of a cheapskate he was. "Hey, pour me a cup while you're in there," I asked as I took off my hat and laid my damp coat down on the arm of a chair. I took a seat on the worn sofa, playing with the frayed upholstery while Eric ducked out of sight into the kitchen.
"Sure, he wakes a guy up and barges into his home at two in the morning and then he asks for a cup of coffee," Eric muttered to himself. I grimaced, realizing my timing might have been better, but hey! I didn't ask to get shot at, so I let it go. I could hear the clinking of cups hitting each other and the banging of a cupboard door before he said anything more. "So tell me about the case first," he called from the other side of the wall.
I cringed, knowing he wasn't going to like this. Eric wasn't overly fond of Sydney, though I didn't understand why. Trying to put off the inevitable confrontation, I started to explain what had happened using the vaguest terms possible. "Well, I was just getting ready to knock off for the evening when the door opened behind me. My first thought was to say, "Come back tomorrow," but I turned around and it was this dame with."
"Don't tell me, let me guess," he interrupted. "There was just something in her eyes that told you she needed help, and you can never refuse a damsel in distress."
"Yeah, basically, so I asked her to tell me the story. Her pop is missing and she needs help finding him. Law enforcement hasn't been any help, so she came to us." I wasn't really lying, I reasoned to myself. She may not have gone to the cops, but the FBI does count as law enforcement. "Like you said, our caseload is empty now so I figured it wouldn't be a big deal to take on a missing persons case." I shifted uneasily in my seat, knowing the grilling was about to begin.
He leaned back in his chair and gave me a piercing glare. "Why do I get the feeling you're not being square with me? Are you holding stuff back?" he asked suspiciously.
"What kind of stuff?" I bluffed.
"Stuff like why this guy is missing. Was he kidnapped or did he run off? If he was kidnapped, then who did it? Where was he last seen?" he rattled off.
"He didn't run off, but no one is sure if he was kidnapped. He was in a bit of trouble and it's possible he left to get it sorted out, or he might have been taken. I'm going to make a few calls tomorrow to see if I can find out where he was last seen."
"What do you mean a bit of trouble? And who is it you're going to call?" Shifting my gaze from his eyes to a spot on the wall behind him, I opened my mouth to answer. "Look at me when you talk to me Vaughn, it's too early to be playing games," he snapped.
Reluctantly, I turned my gaze back to him. "Someone's been trying to kill him, so he was in a safe house. I'm going to call Teddy to see if I can find out where."
Eric pounced on that bit of information. "Teddy? As in FBI agent Ted Grissom? Is this guy a Fed?"
"Yeah, as in Ted Grissom." I tried to find a way out of telling him the whole story, but there was no getting around it. "We're looking for Jack Bristow."
"Jack Bristow, why is that name familiar?" he mused. I stayed silent this time. If he couldn't figure it out, no way was I telling him. But then his eyes narrowed and he said, "Wait a minute! Wasn't Sydney's old man named Jack?"
I was caught. In a last ditch attempt, I asked, "Which Sydney?"
"It is! Vaughn, I can't believe you! Wasn't one case from that broad enough? No, you just had to get involved with her again, didn't you?" Suddenly, he stopped his rant and peered at me over his coffee cup. "Hold up, is that what this is about? You have a thing for this, this."
"Her name is Sydney," I replied stiffly.
"Crimeny Vaughn, that's it isn't it? It's always about the dames with you." Slamming his mug down on the table, he got up and started to pace the living room floor.
I watched him for a moment, debating the value of asking the question in my mind. Finally I decided he couldn't get more upset with me than he already was, so I went for it. "What's your beef with her anyway?"
He stopped and stared at me. "Are you kidding?" he asked incredulously. "You know I don't like it when things get complicated!"
I frowned at him, completely puzzled. "What does that have to do with Sydney?"
He shoved his hands into his already messy hair in the air in sheer exasperation. "Vaughn, a dame like that can't be anything but complicated. The last case of hers we were involved in. well, it ended okay, but we ended up getting into confrontations with two different Mafiosi in the same night. If Jack Bristow is missing, you can be sure it's more of the same." Suddenly he shut his trap and just looked at me for a minute. "I'm talking to a brick wall here aren't I?" he finally asked.
I could hear the resignation in his tone and knew that he wouldn't argue anymore. "Do you want to hear the rest of the story?" I offered.
Eric sank back into his chair and picked up his coffee cup again. "Looks like I should have made this stuff stronger," he muttered to himself.
Taking that for a yes, I picked up where I had left off. "Jack was supposed to have lunch with Sydney the other day, but he never showed. She checked his house, but he wasn't there so she finally called the office. They stonewalled her of course, but to make a long story short, she finally found out that after a few attempts on his life they'd put him in a safe house, and that he wasn't there any longer. Of course, after that snafu, she doesn't trust the Feds as far she can throw them, so she came to us for help."
"And after one look at her pleading brown eyes you couldn't say no," he inserted sarcastically.
I stiffened slightly at the insinuation. "No, after listening to her story I realized that something was going on and someone needed to do something about it. Isn't that why we became PI's anyway Eric, so we could help people who needed it?" This time it was my turn to shoot him a pointed look.
He finished his coffee and stared into the empty mug before answering. "Yeah, you're right. It's just early and I'm all out of sorts, you know?"
I had to smile at that. "I know, and I'm sorry. But after that guy shot out the window."
"Holy smokes Vaughn, I completely forgot about that. So what's the story there?"
"Not much really," I said with a shrug. "I stayed in the office going over possibilities after I sent Sydney home, and after a few hours, the perp ran by, took a shot at the window, got in a car, and drove off. I tried to catch some details, but you know how dark it is in front of the office."
Eric snorted in disgust. "Maybe now the city will replace the light bulb."
"I wouldn't count on it," I replied with a sardonic smile.
"Probably not. But you're certain he wasn't trying to hit you?"
"Not unless he mistook me for a coat rack. Of course, I get that a lot," I joked.
"Oh yeah, you do bear a certain resemblance to pieces of furniture. So that means he was just trying to scare you off, which means."
"Someone doesn't want Jack Bristow found," I finished.
We sat in silence, mulling over that for a moment. I was fingering the brim of my hat when I heard him ask, "So what's the game plan?"
I glanced back up at him and shrugged. "Right now, there isn't one. We're meeting Sydney at the office at 8:00 and I'll call Teddy from there."
"Eight a.m?? That's only five hours from now! Sheesh Vaughn, you're trying to run my into the ground, aren't you?" Staring off into space, he slowly shook his head, then tiredly rubbed his hands across his face. "Well, we're not going to solve anything right now. Why don't we get some shut eye and start fresh in the morning?"
I hadn't felt worn out, but as soon as he mentioned the time, the fatigue struck. Wearily, I rose from my seat and walked toward the door. Before I left, I turned and flashed him a tired smile. "Thanks Eric. I know this isn't how you wanted to spend your Friday."
He waved off my thanks with a grin and said, "You can pay me back with a nice bottle of that scotch you're too cheap to buy."
"It's a deal," I told him and shut the door behind me.
The next morning, Syd is waiting for them at the office (since there's no way they could get up "early" with that little sleep.) They go over the plan they've come up with and she agrees, starting at the safe house is a good idea. (problem here, how does she know where the safe house is?)
QUOTE The next morning: Is Syd ticked she had to wait? Does Weiss keep his mouth shut about Vaughn's feelings? Did the FBI agent leak where the safe house was to Syd on accident? Maybe Vaughn's contact did?
Absolutely. Hm... there it is again, the thought of Weiss keeping his mouth shut. In his favor, he only makes constant allusions, but they are constant. The FBI agent... hehe, there's a plot twist I haven't told you about yet. Vaughn's contract!! I could kiss your feet right now!! I totally forgot about Teddy!
The sun streaming through my bedroom window woke me up the next morning. Mumbling in protest, I flung my arm over my face to block the light out. I had lain there for a minute, slowly coming to consciousness, when the facts started to filter through my weary brain much like the sunlight that was filtering through my blinds.
"Morning-sun-What time is it?" I exclaimed as I sat bolt upright in bed. A quick glance at the clock confirmed my fears: 8:30, I was already thirty minutes late. "Sydney is never going to forgive me," I groaned as I launched myself out of the bed, grabbing clean clothes on my way to the bathroom.
Five minutes later I was out the door, cursing my alarm clock as I ran down the steps. I had set it the night before, at least I was fairly certain I had. Why did it have to pick this morning of all mornings to die on me?
Luckily, the office is only 10 blocks from my place. I set off at a quick jog, weaving in and out of the people on their way to work. I was almost there when I was accosted by a paperboy. "Ready for your morning paper Mister Vaughn?" he asked.
"Not today Eddie," I replied, trying to move past him.
He deftly stepped into my path, shoving his wares under my nose. "But Mister Vaughn, you always read the paper with your morning coffee. Are you sure you don't want it?"
I nearly shoved the newsie off the sidewalk in my frustration. "Not today I said! I'm late for an important meeting, I'm sorry Eddie!!" Finally getting free from his attentions, I ran the remaining 20 yards to the office.
The first thing I noticed were the boards covering the office window. Apparently [i]someone[/i] hadn't gotten up in time to call the glazer, but then neither had I, so I shrugged it off and stepped inside.
Unfortunately, my earlier instincts had been right. The instant I walked through the door; the Bristow death glare pinned me to the wall. "Where have you been, Vaughn?" she asked coldly.
"Eric and I were up late hammering out a plan. I guess I slept in a little," I answered, wincing at the reply that sounded weak even to my ears.
"If that's true, then how come he got here a full twenty minutes before you?" she demanded.
My incredulous look swung to partner, who was studiously avoiding my gaze. "How did you. Never mind, it doesn't matter," I quickly realized. "Eric, make some coffee while I call Teddy so we can get this show on the road," I ordered, moving to the desk as the door shut behind me.
Ignoring the baleful look he shot me as he and Sydney stepped into his office, I grabbed the phone off the desk and dialed Teddy's extension. "Ted Grissom here," a baritone voice replied.
"Hey Teddy, it's Vaughn," I said, taking a seat and swinging my feet up on the desk.
"Vaughn! How've you been? I haven't heard from you in a while, not since the Bristow case."
I grinned to myself-here was the segue I needed. "Actually Teddy, it's funny you should mention the Bristows. You're never going to believe who's standing in front of me."
The sudden tension in the FBI office radiated down the line and into my ear. "Which one, Vaughn? Please tell me it's Jack!" he pleaded.
"Sorry, no can do. Nope, Sydney is here and she seems to think her father is missing. Would you happen to know anything about that?"
He snorted in amusement before answering. "Would I know anything about it? I'm the one who put him in protective custody! But wait a minute! How did she know he was missing? All we told her was that he couldn't make it to lunch last week."
Suddenly his previous tension transferred to me. Gripping the handset tighter, I asked, "What do you mean? She came in two days ago to ask what the deal was, and someone told her he'd gone missing from the safe house. Come on Teddy, you knew that right?" Even as I said it, I knew it wasn't true.
"No, we would never have given an unauthorized civilian information like that," he replied seriously. "Let me be straight with you Vaughn, we've suspected for a while now that we have a leak here in the Bureau. This just confirms it."
I felt a chill sweep over me at those words. Suddenly, I was glad I hadn't had time to eat breakfast, the knot in the pit of my stomach was bad enough without food sitting on top of it. "What are you telling me Teddy?" I asked slowly, sitting up straight in my seat.
"I'm saying we need you to find Jack Bristow, and fast. It seems like someone is willing to go pretty far to keep him from being found and with this mole around, I don't know who I can trust on the inside. I need your help."
I was surprised by how freely he was giving out the information, usually talking to Teddy was like pulling teeth. Gradually a suspicion inched its way into my mind. Even though I felt it was ludicrous I still voiced it-my gut was telling me I had to. "Is there something more I should know, besides the location of the safe house that is?"
He heaved a sigh before speaking, and that settled it for me. "Vaughn, you know cases like this are need to know only," he remonstrated.
"And if you expect me to find Jack Bristow, I need to know!" I snapped back. "Look Teddy, someone's already taken potshots at me, shooting the window out in the office. You can't send me into something like this blind, I won't do it."
I could almost hear him grimace at my vehemence, but I was past caring. I wasn't as bad as Rick Blaine in Casablanca, who claimed "I stick my neck out for nobody," but I needed to know why. I wanted answers and I wanted them now, but nothing could have prepared me for the answers I got.
"Arvin Sloane escaped from prison four weeks ago." He paused for a minute when he heard my quick indrawn breath and then continued. "A week later Jack was standing in the middle of the street and a shot whizzed right by his head. We all thought it was coincidence-well, everyone but Jack, you know how he is. But that all changed two days later. He got home from work late and noticed an odd car parked two blocks away. His guard already up from the previous incident, he managed to sneak close enough to the house to see a hit man waiting for him in his living room. One quick shot to the back and that problem was taken care of. He came back here to fill us in, and we sat down and decided he should go into protective custody."
"Let me get this straight. Arvin Sloane escapes from prison, a week later the man who put him there is being shot at, and you don't think it means anything? What do they pay you people for?" I asked, dumbfounded. "Okay, so what's the rest of the story?"
"The rest of the story you already know. Three days after he went into the safe house, he disappeared. We only told Sydney when it became clear he wouldn't be making their lunch appointment."
"And no one was supposed to tell her he'd been in protective custody, or even that he was missing?" I clarified.
"No one."
I sighed heavily and then said, "Thanks Teddy, I owe you one. Oh, before I hang up, where's the safe house? I'd like to start from there and see if I can't pick up a trail."
"It's in the industrial district, 1500 North Smokestack Avenue."
"Smokestack Avenue?" I asked, sure I'd misheard.
"I told you, it's in the industrial district," he responded, a little put out. "Listen Vaughn, I need to get going. I'm counting on you to bring him back, but if anything goes wrong."
"We never had this conversation, I know. Thanks Teddy, I'll do what I can." Hanging up the phone, I pinched the bridge of my nose between my right thumb and forefinger. How was I going to tell Sydney what her father had gotten into?
No sooner had I asked myself that question than Eric stuck his head through the door. "What's the lowdown from Teddy?" he asked. For a moment I said nothing, just stood there wondering how I was going to handle this. "Vaughn?" Eric prodded. "What's going on?"
"Yes Vaughn, what's going on?" Sydney asked snidely. From the look on her face I could tell she was still upset about being kept waiting, and I knew that what I had to tell her wasn't going to improve things much.
In answer, I just grabbed my coat and hat and said, "Come on guys, we've gotta split."
"Hold on a minute, Mister Vaughn!" Sydney demanded. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on!"
I looked at her and sighed, we did not have time for this. "Fine. You can wait here while we try to find your old man, whatever floats your boat," I replied curtly.
She glared at me for a moment before moving past me haughtily, her chin stuck up in the air. "Are you boys coming?" she called from the sidewalk with saccharine sweetness. "After all, I don't have a clue where I'm going. No one seems to want to fill me in, even though it is my father we're searching for."
I groaned when she kicked the drama into high gear. "I just don't understand how the two of you can run a successful detective agency when you can't be on time to appointments with your clients and when you won't even keep them in the loop. I mean really, is it too much to ask for to want to know where we're going? Vaughn, I don't even know who you talked to! What's going on here??"
Luckily for me, she had to stop for air or we might have been standing in the street listening to her harangue all day. "Syd, listen to me," I said hastily as soon as she stopped. "I promise, I'll answer all your questions, but you've got to let me get a word in edgewise! Besides, it's really important that we get a move on here, my gut's telling me that time is of the essence. So, if you wouldn't mind." I said, gesturing to where Eric stood, leaning against the car with his head in his hands. "Your chariot awaits!"
"Why me?" Eric groaned, climbing into the driver's seat. "Isn't there some sort of law against getting stuck with moody dames?" he complained.
I tried to ignore him as I climbed into the back seat on the driver's side, choosing instead to concentrate on the headache building behind my eyes. This was promising to be one hell of a day, and it was only 9:00.
I was so lost in thought I didn't even notice when Sydney got in and Eric started the car up. Finally, after a couple minutes of silence Eric couldn't handle it anymore. "So you guys are awfully quiet back there," he commented. "Who died?"
I could have killed him with my bare hands in that moment. Of all the things he could have chosen to say, he had to pick the least appropriate. I opened my mouth, a scathing reply ready, but Sydney beat me to it. "My father, if Vaughn doesn't get his act together," she sniped.
That was it. I'd reached my boiling point, and I made sure she knew it. "Listen Doll face, if you don't like the way I run my business you're more than welcome to get out and go find your father by yourself."
"I'd probably have better luck," she retorted.
I shook my head at that. No dame was worth this. "Eric, pull over," I ordered.
He obligingly slowed the car to a stop by the side of the road. "What are you doing?" Sydney asked in irritation.
"You said you could do this on your own, I'm going to let you," I replied, matching her stare for stare.
"This is like watching an old married couple fight," Eric muttered from the front seat.
"Shut your trap, Eric!" we both demanded before turning back to our staring contest.
"You're serious, aren't you Vaughn?" she finally asked quietly.
Before answering, I nodded to Eric in the rear view mirror and he started driving again. "Yes I am Sydney. I don't need to take this from you. I don't deserve it and I can't handle the pressure to be frank. I know you're worried about your father, but as it is, it's your questions and pouting that are holding us up so why don't you just be quiet and listen for a change!"
She just stared at me, shocked into silence. I nodded forcefully, pleased with her acquiescence. "Okay then, are you ready to find out what the deal is?" I asked her, a little calmer now. Her slight nod gave me the go ahead I needed, and I plunged right into the explanation.
"Teddy gave me the address of the safe house, it's at 1500 North Smokestack Ave Eric. He also told me a few things you might not want to hear, things that are making my fingers itch."
"Making your fingers itch?" she asked, confused.
"Vaughn's fingers itch whenever he gets a bad feeling about something," Eric answered from the front seat. "His feelers are never wrong."
"Really. so what's the bad news?" she queried.
I took a deep breath before answering. She wasn't going to like what I had to say, I didn't even like it, but she needed to know what was going on. "Well, first off Sloane escaped from the slammer four weeks ago."
After I said that, I stared at her for a moment, bracing myself for the inevitable reaction. "He what?" she said incredulously. "You mean he's the one who's been taking shots at my dad?"
"He's hired it done most likely," I replied. "But that's not the worst part Sydney. No one was cleared to tell you any of this. According to Teddy, you should still be completely in the dark."
"Then why did that man come talk to me?" she asked, confused.
"There's a mole in the FBI. He's probably hoping to follow you straight to your father, or vice-versa."
"Then what are we doing out here??" she panicked. "We can't lead them to Dad, we've got to turn around and go home!!"
"Sydney! Syd, calm down! It'll be alright, just trust me. And we can't go home because the FBI needs us to find Jack for them."
"Why? Why can't they do it themselves Vaughn?"
Her vulnerability touched me more than her determination ever could. More than anything I wanted to turn that car around and hightail it for home, but I'd made a promise to Teddy. We were Jack Bristow's only hope.
"Because Sydney," I replied softly, "if they have a mole, it would be more dangerous for them to go after Jack than us. At least if we're looking for him they'll have to work to follow us. Leaving a mole in the investigation would be signing your father's death warrant, you know that Syd."
"Vaughn." she started to protest.
"We're here," I said, effectively cutting her off as Eric slowed the car to a stop.
Getting out of the car, I surveyed the building in front of me. The old feed shop sure looked like a fixer upper, but it blended in perfectly with the rundown feeling I sensed from the buildings surrounding it. It sure didn't seem like the kind of place you'd put a safe house, but maybe that's what made it safe, I mused.
I waited patiently for Syd and Eric to join me on the sidewalk before we approached the house together. About 10 feet from the safe house, my fingers started itching. Looking around quickly, I spotted three goons taking aim at us. "Get down!" I yelled, pulling Sydney to cover while they started shooting up the place.
Chapter 2-And the Plot Thickens
I sent Sydney home in a cab, telling her to come back early in the morning so we could go over the case with Weiss. Why I said early I have no clue, he was never in earlier than 9:00. Anyway, so I was sitting there going over the case, holding a cigar that had long since smoldered down to little more than embers when it happened.
One minute I was in my office, minding my own business, and the next, some joker ran by and shot the window out! I ran out the door, hoping to catch him, but it was too late-tires were squealing as the getaway car peeled out. Anywhere else, I would have been able to get the license plate number or maybe the color and make of the car, but the streetlight outside my office had been burnt out for months, leaving the entire block bathed in shadows.
Shaking my head, I walked back inside to survey the damage. A quick look told me everything I needed to know. There was no way they'd been shooting to kill, the bullet was lodged into the wall by the coat rack, not the wall behind my desk. This had been a scare tactic, but whoever was behind it had made a serious miscalculation. I don't scare easy, and when people try it just makes me curious. If I hadn't already promised Sydney I'd help her old man out of this jam, there would be no keeping me from it now.
However, they did succeed in doing one thing. I knew now that this case was even more urgent than I had thought. Resting my hip on the edge of the desk, I picked up the phone and rang a familiar number. I let it ring fifteen times before I hung up and tried again. Finally, he picked up on the twelfth ring. "This had better be God calling to tell me today is get in free day," Weiss growled into the mouthpiece.
"Yeah, and you still don't qualify," I retorted.
"Vaughn!!" he spat out angrily. "What are you doing calling me at 0 dark hundred hours in the morning!"
"Well, I was wondering if you could call the glazer before you come to work in the morning," I said nonchalantly as I moved from the desk to my chair.
"The wha-huh? Speak English, it's too early for big words." His words were still slurred slightly with sleep, and I could picture his befuddled expression as clearly as if he was sitting in front of me.
"The office window needs to be replaced." I chuckled to myself when I said it; I knew he wouldn't make the connection this early in the morning, but it was fun baiting him like this.
"And you're calling me now to tell me this? Vaughn, it's still [b]dark[/b] outside!" he whined.
"Well, I thought I ought to tell you, since someone just took a shot at me," I replied mildly. I leaned back in my chair, grinning as I waited for the explosion.
"What?? Why didn't you say so? Are you hit?" he asked then answered his own question. "No of course not, you wouldn't be so calm if you'd been hit. So what happened?"
"Well I was just sitting here thinking after our latest client went home when some bozo came running by and shot the window out. I tried to catch him."
"Wait a minute, what latest client? I thought we cleared all our cases on Monday."
"We did, but now we've got something new. I guess I should start at the beginning of the story, huh?"
"That might help," he replied wryly. "Wait, is this a long story?"
"It could be," I hedged.
I heard him sigh into the phone before he spoke. "Then just come on over. I'll get dressed and make a pot of coffee and you can fill me in."
Hm, might cut it down to 2 hours. Mostly they talk about the case. Weiss wants all the details. Come to think of it, there aren't many yet. I think a good chunk of the time is Weiss berating Vaughn for getting involved with Sydney again. hehe, involved. And of course Vaughn will mention something about how good she looks...
Thirty minutes later I was walking up the narrow staircase to Eric's apartment. Looking down the dingy hallway, I just shook my head. Business wasn't huge, but we made enough that he could afford to get a better place than this. Every time it came up, he just dug in his heels and said, "I like it here, Vaughn. No one bothers me. If I moved, I'd have nice neighbors sticking their heads in my door all the time, trying to be social. No thanks!"
Before I could even knock, Eric had the door open. "Why can't I ever see a gorgeous dame outside my door at 2:00 a.m.? Instead, all I get is your ugly mug," he groused. "Well, we might as well get started. Make yourself comfortable, I'm going to get myself a cup of coffee."
I stepped into the sparsely furnished living room that illustrated once more how much of a cheapskate he was. "Hey, pour me a cup while you're in there," I asked as I took off my hat and laid my damp coat down on the arm of a chair. I took a seat on the worn sofa, playing with the frayed upholstery while Eric ducked out of sight into the kitchen.
"Sure, he wakes a guy up and barges into his home at two in the morning and then he asks for a cup of coffee," Eric muttered to himself. I grimaced, realizing my timing might have been better, but hey! I didn't ask to get shot at, so I let it go. I could hear the clinking of cups hitting each other and the banging of a cupboard door before he said anything more. "So tell me about the case first," he called from the other side of the wall.
I cringed, knowing he wasn't going to like this. Eric wasn't overly fond of Sydney, though I didn't understand why. Trying to put off the inevitable confrontation, I started to explain what had happened using the vaguest terms possible. "Well, I was just getting ready to knock off for the evening when the door opened behind me. My first thought was to say, "Come back tomorrow," but I turned around and it was this dame with."
"Don't tell me, let me guess," he interrupted. "There was just something in her eyes that told you she needed help, and you can never refuse a damsel in distress."
"Yeah, basically, so I asked her to tell me the story. Her pop is missing and she needs help finding him. Law enforcement hasn't been any help, so she came to us." I wasn't really lying, I reasoned to myself. She may not have gone to the cops, but the FBI does count as law enforcement. "Like you said, our caseload is empty now so I figured it wouldn't be a big deal to take on a missing persons case." I shifted uneasily in my seat, knowing the grilling was about to begin.
He leaned back in his chair and gave me a piercing glare. "Why do I get the feeling you're not being square with me? Are you holding stuff back?" he asked suspiciously.
"What kind of stuff?" I bluffed.
"Stuff like why this guy is missing. Was he kidnapped or did he run off? If he was kidnapped, then who did it? Where was he last seen?" he rattled off.
"He didn't run off, but no one is sure if he was kidnapped. He was in a bit of trouble and it's possible he left to get it sorted out, or he might have been taken. I'm going to make a few calls tomorrow to see if I can find out where he was last seen."
"What do you mean a bit of trouble? And who is it you're going to call?" Shifting my gaze from his eyes to a spot on the wall behind him, I opened my mouth to answer. "Look at me when you talk to me Vaughn, it's too early to be playing games," he snapped.
Reluctantly, I turned my gaze back to him. "Someone's been trying to kill him, so he was in a safe house. I'm going to call Teddy to see if I can find out where."
Eric pounced on that bit of information. "Teddy? As in FBI agent Ted Grissom? Is this guy a Fed?"
"Yeah, as in Ted Grissom." I tried to find a way out of telling him the whole story, but there was no getting around it. "We're looking for Jack Bristow."
"Jack Bristow, why is that name familiar?" he mused. I stayed silent this time. If he couldn't figure it out, no way was I telling him. But then his eyes narrowed and he said, "Wait a minute! Wasn't Sydney's old man named Jack?"
I was caught. In a last ditch attempt, I asked, "Which Sydney?"
"It is! Vaughn, I can't believe you! Wasn't one case from that broad enough? No, you just had to get involved with her again, didn't you?" Suddenly, he stopped his rant and peered at me over his coffee cup. "Hold up, is that what this is about? You have a thing for this, this."
"Her name is Sydney," I replied stiffly.
"Crimeny Vaughn, that's it isn't it? It's always about the dames with you." Slamming his mug down on the table, he got up and started to pace the living room floor.
I watched him for a moment, debating the value of asking the question in my mind. Finally I decided he couldn't get more upset with me than he already was, so I went for it. "What's your beef with her anyway?"
He stopped and stared at me. "Are you kidding?" he asked incredulously. "You know I don't like it when things get complicated!"
I frowned at him, completely puzzled. "What does that have to do with Sydney?"
He shoved his hands into his already messy hair in the air in sheer exasperation. "Vaughn, a dame like that can't be anything but complicated. The last case of hers we were involved in. well, it ended okay, but we ended up getting into confrontations with two different Mafiosi in the same night. If Jack Bristow is missing, you can be sure it's more of the same." Suddenly he shut his trap and just looked at me for a minute. "I'm talking to a brick wall here aren't I?" he finally asked.
I could hear the resignation in his tone and knew that he wouldn't argue anymore. "Do you want to hear the rest of the story?" I offered.
Eric sank back into his chair and picked up his coffee cup again. "Looks like I should have made this stuff stronger," he muttered to himself.
Taking that for a yes, I picked up where I had left off. "Jack was supposed to have lunch with Sydney the other day, but he never showed. She checked his house, but he wasn't there so she finally called the office. They stonewalled her of course, but to make a long story short, she finally found out that after a few attempts on his life they'd put him in a safe house, and that he wasn't there any longer. Of course, after that snafu, she doesn't trust the Feds as far she can throw them, so she came to us for help."
"And after one look at her pleading brown eyes you couldn't say no," he inserted sarcastically.
I stiffened slightly at the insinuation. "No, after listening to her story I realized that something was going on and someone needed to do something about it. Isn't that why we became PI's anyway Eric, so we could help people who needed it?" This time it was my turn to shoot him a pointed look.
He finished his coffee and stared into the empty mug before answering. "Yeah, you're right. It's just early and I'm all out of sorts, you know?"
I had to smile at that. "I know, and I'm sorry. But after that guy shot out the window."
"Holy smokes Vaughn, I completely forgot about that. So what's the story there?"
"Not much really," I said with a shrug. "I stayed in the office going over possibilities after I sent Sydney home, and after a few hours, the perp ran by, took a shot at the window, got in a car, and drove off. I tried to catch some details, but you know how dark it is in front of the office."
Eric snorted in disgust. "Maybe now the city will replace the light bulb."
"I wouldn't count on it," I replied with a sardonic smile.
"Probably not. But you're certain he wasn't trying to hit you?"
"Not unless he mistook me for a coat rack. Of course, I get that a lot," I joked.
"Oh yeah, you do bear a certain resemblance to pieces of furniture. So that means he was just trying to scare you off, which means."
"Someone doesn't want Jack Bristow found," I finished.
We sat in silence, mulling over that for a moment. I was fingering the brim of my hat when I heard him ask, "So what's the game plan?"
I glanced back up at him and shrugged. "Right now, there isn't one. We're meeting Sydney at the office at 8:00 and I'll call Teddy from there."
"Eight a.m?? That's only five hours from now! Sheesh Vaughn, you're trying to run my into the ground, aren't you?" Staring off into space, he slowly shook his head, then tiredly rubbed his hands across his face. "Well, we're not going to solve anything right now. Why don't we get some shut eye and start fresh in the morning?"
I hadn't felt worn out, but as soon as he mentioned the time, the fatigue struck. Wearily, I rose from my seat and walked toward the door. Before I left, I turned and flashed him a tired smile. "Thanks Eric. I know this isn't how you wanted to spend your Friday."
He waved off my thanks with a grin and said, "You can pay me back with a nice bottle of that scotch you're too cheap to buy."
"It's a deal," I told him and shut the door behind me.
The next morning, Syd is waiting for them at the office (since there's no way they could get up "early" with that little sleep.) They go over the plan they've come up with and she agrees, starting at the safe house is a good idea. (problem here, how does she know where the safe house is?)
QUOTE The next morning: Is Syd ticked she had to wait? Does Weiss keep his mouth shut about Vaughn's feelings? Did the FBI agent leak where the safe house was to Syd on accident? Maybe Vaughn's contact did?
Absolutely. Hm... there it is again, the thought of Weiss keeping his mouth shut. In his favor, he only makes constant allusions, but they are constant. The FBI agent... hehe, there's a plot twist I haven't told you about yet. Vaughn's contract!! I could kiss your feet right now!! I totally forgot about Teddy!
The sun streaming through my bedroom window woke me up the next morning. Mumbling in protest, I flung my arm over my face to block the light out. I had lain there for a minute, slowly coming to consciousness, when the facts started to filter through my weary brain much like the sunlight that was filtering through my blinds.
"Morning-sun-What time is it?" I exclaimed as I sat bolt upright in bed. A quick glance at the clock confirmed my fears: 8:30, I was already thirty minutes late. "Sydney is never going to forgive me," I groaned as I launched myself out of the bed, grabbing clean clothes on my way to the bathroom.
Five minutes later I was out the door, cursing my alarm clock as I ran down the steps. I had set it the night before, at least I was fairly certain I had. Why did it have to pick this morning of all mornings to die on me?
Luckily, the office is only 10 blocks from my place. I set off at a quick jog, weaving in and out of the people on their way to work. I was almost there when I was accosted by a paperboy. "Ready for your morning paper Mister Vaughn?" he asked.
"Not today Eddie," I replied, trying to move past him.
He deftly stepped into my path, shoving his wares under my nose. "But Mister Vaughn, you always read the paper with your morning coffee. Are you sure you don't want it?"
I nearly shoved the newsie off the sidewalk in my frustration. "Not today I said! I'm late for an important meeting, I'm sorry Eddie!!" Finally getting free from his attentions, I ran the remaining 20 yards to the office.
The first thing I noticed were the boards covering the office window. Apparently [i]someone[/i] hadn't gotten up in time to call the glazer, but then neither had I, so I shrugged it off and stepped inside.
Unfortunately, my earlier instincts had been right. The instant I walked through the door; the Bristow death glare pinned me to the wall. "Where have you been, Vaughn?" she asked coldly.
"Eric and I were up late hammering out a plan. I guess I slept in a little," I answered, wincing at the reply that sounded weak even to my ears.
"If that's true, then how come he got here a full twenty minutes before you?" she demanded.
My incredulous look swung to partner, who was studiously avoiding my gaze. "How did you. Never mind, it doesn't matter," I quickly realized. "Eric, make some coffee while I call Teddy so we can get this show on the road," I ordered, moving to the desk as the door shut behind me.
Ignoring the baleful look he shot me as he and Sydney stepped into his office, I grabbed the phone off the desk and dialed Teddy's extension. "Ted Grissom here," a baritone voice replied.
"Hey Teddy, it's Vaughn," I said, taking a seat and swinging my feet up on the desk.
"Vaughn! How've you been? I haven't heard from you in a while, not since the Bristow case."
I grinned to myself-here was the segue I needed. "Actually Teddy, it's funny you should mention the Bristows. You're never going to believe who's standing in front of me."
The sudden tension in the FBI office radiated down the line and into my ear. "Which one, Vaughn? Please tell me it's Jack!" he pleaded.
"Sorry, no can do. Nope, Sydney is here and she seems to think her father is missing. Would you happen to know anything about that?"
He snorted in amusement before answering. "Would I know anything about it? I'm the one who put him in protective custody! But wait a minute! How did she know he was missing? All we told her was that he couldn't make it to lunch last week."
Suddenly his previous tension transferred to me. Gripping the handset tighter, I asked, "What do you mean? She came in two days ago to ask what the deal was, and someone told her he'd gone missing from the safe house. Come on Teddy, you knew that right?" Even as I said it, I knew it wasn't true.
"No, we would never have given an unauthorized civilian information like that," he replied seriously. "Let me be straight with you Vaughn, we've suspected for a while now that we have a leak here in the Bureau. This just confirms it."
I felt a chill sweep over me at those words. Suddenly, I was glad I hadn't had time to eat breakfast, the knot in the pit of my stomach was bad enough without food sitting on top of it. "What are you telling me Teddy?" I asked slowly, sitting up straight in my seat.
"I'm saying we need you to find Jack Bristow, and fast. It seems like someone is willing to go pretty far to keep him from being found and with this mole around, I don't know who I can trust on the inside. I need your help."
I was surprised by how freely he was giving out the information, usually talking to Teddy was like pulling teeth. Gradually a suspicion inched its way into my mind. Even though I felt it was ludicrous I still voiced it-my gut was telling me I had to. "Is there something more I should know, besides the location of the safe house that is?"
He heaved a sigh before speaking, and that settled it for me. "Vaughn, you know cases like this are need to know only," he remonstrated.
"And if you expect me to find Jack Bristow, I need to know!" I snapped back. "Look Teddy, someone's already taken potshots at me, shooting the window out in the office. You can't send me into something like this blind, I won't do it."
I could almost hear him grimace at my vehemence, but I was past caring. I wasn't as bad as Rick Blaine in Casablanca, who claimed "I stick my neck out for nobody," but I needed to know why. I wanted answers and I wanted them now, but nothing could have prepared me for the answers I got.
"Arvin Sloane escaped from prison four weeks ago." He paused for a minute when he heard my quick indrawn breath and then continued. "A week later Jack was standing in the middle of the street and a shot whizzed right by his head. We all thought it was coincidence-well, everyone but Jack, you know how he is. But that all changed two days later. He got home from work late and noticed an odd car parked two blocks away. His guard already up from the previous incident, he managed to sneak close enough to the house to see a hit man waiting for him in his living room. One quick shot to the back and that problem was taken care of. He came back here to fill us in, and we sat down and decided he should go into protective custody."
"Let me get this straight. Arvin Sloane escapes from prison, a week later the man who put him there is being shot at, and you don't think it means anything? What do they pay you people for?" I asked, dumbfounded. "Okay, so what's the rest of the story?"
"The rest of the story you already know. Three days after he went into the safe house, he disappeared. We only told Sydney when it became clear he wouldn't be making their lunch appointment."
"And no one was supposed to tell her he'd been in protective custody, or even that he was missing?" I clarified.
"No one."
I sighed heavily and then said, "Thanks Teddy, I owe you one. Oh, before I hang up, where's the safe house? I'd like to start from there and see if I can't pick up a trail."
"It's in the industrial district, 1500 North Smokestack Avenue."
"Smokestack Avenue?" I asked, sure I'd misheard.
"I told you, it's in the industrial district," he responded, a little put out. "Listen Vaughn, I need to get going. I'm counting on you to bring him back, but if anything goes wrong."
"We never had this conversation, I know. Thanks Teddy, I'll do what I can." Hanging up the phone, I pinched the bridge of my nose between my right thumb and forefinger. How was I going to tell Sydney what her father had gotten into?
No sooner had I asked myself that question than Eric stuck his head through the door. "What's the lowdown from Teddy?" he asked. For a moment I said nothing, just stood there wondering how I was going to handle this. "Vaughn?" Eric prodded. "What's going on?"
"Yes Vaughn, what's going on?" Sydney asked snidely. From the look on her face I could tell she was still upset about being kept waiting, and I knew that what I had to tell her wasn't going to improve things much.
In answer, I just grabbed my coat and hat and said, "Come on guys, we've gotta split."
"Hold on a minute, Mister Vaughn!" Sydney demanded. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on!"
I looked at her and sighed, we did not have time for this. "Fine. You can wait here while we try to find your old man, whatever floats your boat," I replied curtly.
She glared at me for a moment before moving past me haughtily, her chin stuck up in the air. "Are you boys coming?" she called from the sidewalk with saccharine sweetness. "After all, I don't have a clue where I'm going. No one seems to want to fill me in, even though it is my father we're searching for."
I groaned when she kicked the drama into high gear. "I just don't understand how the two of you can run a successful detective agency when you can't be on time to appointments with your clients and when you won't even keep them in the loop. I mean really, is it too much to ask for to want to know where we're going? Vaughn, I don't even know who you talked to! What's going on here??"
Luckily for me, she had to stop for air or we might have been standing in the street listening to her harangue all day. "Syd, listen to me," I said hastily as soon as she stopped. "I promise, I'll answer all your questions, but you've got to let me get a word in edgewise! Besides, it's really important that we get a move on here, my gut's telling me that time is of the essence. So, if you wouldn't mind." I said, gesturing to where Eric stood, leaning against the car with his head in his hands. "Your chariot awaits!"
"Why me?" Eric groaned, climbing into the driver's seat. "Isn't there some sort of law against getting stuck with moody dames?" he complained.
I tried to ignore him as I climbed into the back seat on the driver's side, choosing instead to concentrate on the headache building behind my eyes. This was promising to be one hell of a day, and it was only 9:00.
I was so lost in thought I didn't even notice when Sydney got in and Eric started the car up. Finally, after a couple minutes of silence Eric couldn't handle it anymore. "So you guys are awfully quiet back there," he commented. "Who died?"
I could have killed him with my bare hands in that moment. Of all the things he could have chosen to say, he had to pick the least appropriate. I opened my mouth, a scathing reply ready, but Sydney beat me to it. "My father, if Vaughn doesn't get his act together," she sniped.
That was it. I'd reached my boiling point, and I made sure she knew it. "Listen Doll face, if you don't like the way I run my business you're more than welcome to get out and go find your father by yourself."
"I'd probably have better luck," she retorted.
I shook my head at that. No dame was worth this. "Eric, pull over," I ordered.
He obligingly slowed the car to a stop by the side of the road. "What are you doing?" Sydney asked in irritation.
"You said you could do this on your own, I'm going to let you," I replied, matching her stare for stare.
"This is like watching an old married couple fight," Eric muttered from the front seat.
"Shut your trap, Eric!" we both demanded before turning back to our staring contest.
"You're serious, aren't you Vaughn?" she finally asked quietly.
Before answering, I nodded to Eric in the rear view mirror and he started driving again. "Yes I am Sydney. I don't need to take this from you. I don't deserve it and I can't handle the pressure to be frank. I know you're worried about your father, but as it is, it's your questions and pouting that are holding us up so why don't you just be quiet and listen for a change!"
She just stared at me, shocked into silence. I nodded forcefully, pleased with her acquiescence. "Okay then, are you ready to find out what the deal is?" I asked her, a little calmer now. Her slight nod gave me the go ahead I needed, and I plunged right into the explanation.
"Teddy gave me the address of the safe house, it's at 1500 North Smokestack Ave Eric. He also told me a few things you might not want to hear, things that are making my fingers itch."
"Making your fingers itch?" she asked, confused.
"Vaughn's fingers itch whenever he gets a bad feeling about something," Eric answered from the front seat. "His feelers are never wrong."
"Really. so what's the bad news?" she queried.
I took a deep breath before answering. She wasn't going to like what I had to say, I didn't even like it, but she needed to know what was going on. "Well, first off Sloane escaped from the slammer four weeks ago."
After I said that, I stared at her for a moment, bracing myself for the inevitable reaction. "He what?" she said incredulously. "You mean he's the one who's been taking shots at my dad?"
"He's hired it done most likely," I replied. "But that's not the worst part Sydney. No one was cleared to tell you any of this. According to Teddy, you should still be completely in the dark."
"Then why did that man come talk to me?" she asked, confused.
"There's a mole in the FBI. He's probably hoping to follow you straight to your father, or vice-versa."
"Then what are we doing out here??" she panicked. "We can't lead them to Dad, we've got to turn around and go home!!"
"Sydney! Syd, calm down! It'll be alright, just trust me. And we can't go home because the FBI needs us to find Jack for them."
"Why? Why can't they do it themselves Vaughn?"
Her vulnerability touched me more than her determination ever could. More than anything I wanted to turn that car around and hightail it for home, but I'd made a promise to Teddy. We were Jack Bristow's only hope.
"Because Sydney," I replied softly, "if they have a mole, it would be more dangerous for them to go after Jack than us. At least if we're looking for him they'll have to work to follow us. Leaving a mole in the investigation would be signing your father's death warrant, you know that Syd."
"Vaughn." she started to protest.
"We're here," I said, effectively cutting her off as Eric slowed the car to a stop.
Getting out of the car, I surveyed the building in front of me. The old feed shop sure looked like a fixer upper, but it blended in perfectly with the rundown feeling I sensed from the buildings surrounding it. It sure didn't seem like the kind of place you'd put a safe house, but maybe that's what made it safe, I mused.
I waited patiently for Syd and Eric to join me on the sidewalk before we approached the house together. About 10 feet from the safe house, my fingers started itching. Looking around quickly, I spotted three goons taking aim at us. "Get down!" I yelled, pulling Sydney to cover while they started shooting up the place.