SHUTTING DOWN THE SIDESHOW

Kayla entered the empty house. She didn't expect Frank to be home for a few more hours. She sighed heavily and dropped her key ring onto the small table next to the front door. She didn't exactly know what she was going to do next, but she honestly felt like crawling under the bed and hiding out from the world forever. But she couldn't do that. There was still so much to plan. There was still so much to skirt around. She had to be honest with herself. Now was not the time to play games. With another heavy sigh, Kayla moved over to the sofa and plopped down onto the cushions. She was so tired, so very tired. She closed her eyes and had every intention of going to sleep, but she couldn't. There was just too much going on. She was certain she was losing her mind.

Two weeks had passed since she moved in with Frank...since he proposed. Outside her confession in bed, she hadn't given him an answer one way or another. He hadn't pushed her for one, either, but she knew he deserved it. Yet, there was no way she could refuse. He would see the lie in her eyes. As she had thought millions of times, she had lied to him about so many things, and it wasn't getting any easier. In two days, the gang would strike its last bank. Kayla planned to be out of Frank's life forever. She had no idea how prophetic that thought was. No idea at all.

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Frank Donovan sat behind his desk. The last two weeks had been the most frustrating time since the team was asked to assist with the Sideshow case. At the beginning, he didn't think he would ever have those thoughts running rampantly in his mind, but after tracing every move made by one Tom Kipplinger, it was the only thing he could think. After a few days of learning the man's moves, Donovan had sent in both Alex and Jake to befriend him. He frequented an area rock club, sometimes performing with his mediocre band. The two agents had found him easily enough and went through the motions of becoming his good friends. However, the son of a bitch hadn't said word one about his affiliation, or lack thereof, with the Sideshow. It mattered little to him. He inherently knew there was a connection, and he was hell bent to find it. He was tired of playing games, and Tom's lack of information was severely pissing him off. It was time to have Tom picked up for some light questioning. The deeds in his past would be enough to justify it if Tom decided to cry foul, and he most certainly would. Men like him always did.

Donovan reached for his phone and made the call. When the conversation ended, he sat back in his chair once more. Absently caressing the nape of his neck, his thoughts wandered to another person who was thoroughly attached to him in more ways than one. His obsession with this case was unending, but so was his worry about Kayla. She had grown somewhat distant and withdrawn. He knew there was much weighing heavily on her mind, but she still wasn't allowing him to touch it. He thought he might have jumped the gun when he asked her to marry him, but again, it was something he felt Kayla wanted just as much as he. Yet, she was denying it, denying herself the happiness that she deserved. He didn't understand, but he had the prickling sensation that he would...and very soon.

Before Donovan entered the interrogation room at the local precinct, he stood in the observation room that the police used for witnesses to finger their suspects. There was a two-way mirror, of course, and he noticed that Tom Kipplinger made it no secret that he knew he was being watched. The ass seemed to enjoy the attention. For a long time, Donovan stood and simply watched the prick. He had yet to forget that this bastard had attacked Kayla twice, hurting her so very badly. He vaguely wondered if he was the right man for the job at this juncture. His rage boiled unchecked inside him, and he gritted his teeth against the poison that seemed to be tainting him. If he didn't get this shit worked out inside him, he would never be able to face Kipplinger without losing his grip.

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With a grin, Tom looked up as the door came open. His grin faded for about half a second when he recognized the person casually entering the room. However, he recovered quickly enough. It wasn't a good idea to show weakness at a time like this. How funny it was that the guy sauntering into the room happened to be Kayla's FBI boyfriend. He hadn't expected less, actually. When he was picked up an hour ago, he immediately assumed it was at the command of the surly, cold-blooded murdering federal agent. He would have some fun at this guy's expense, letting him know every step of the way that he had gotten to Kayla first. Oh yes. This would be a lot of fun. Afterward, it would be even more fun to sue his ass for having him picked up for nothing. He noticed that the guy didn't sit down. Instead, he stood close to the door, well away from the table. Tom couldn't help but wonder if the hotshot FBI dude was afraid that he'd pay him back for messing up his face. He had no true idea what was really going on inside Frank Donovan's mind. If he did, he might not have felt so damned cocky.

"Do you mind telling me why you picked me up? I hope the FBI has some damn fine lawyers," Tom said.

For a moment, the rage entered Donovan's body again. He contained it with everything he had in him. One errant move, and he would be all over this putrid piece of filth. "We've had a few run-ins, haven't we," he commented off-handedly. Before Tom had an opportunity to respond, Donovan plunged ahead. "But that's not truly why we're here today."

Tom chuckled bitterly. "Is that right, G-man? And why are we here today? Surely, it's not to talk about your little girlfriend, now is it? Could it be that we're talking about the huge amount of money I'm going to get when I sue your ass?"

Donovan clenched his jaw very briefly. He knew not to let Tom's words bother him. It was exactly what the ass was trying to accomplish. His sole purpose was to taunt and poke about Kayla. He couldn't let him push his buttons, not unless he wanted to fly into the man, injuring him bodily. "Ah, your lawsuit. Yes. Perhaps we can discuss that later after our conversation here today?" Donovan walked to the other side of the room before turning back and returning to the same spot. He noticed that Tom was watching him curiously, probably thinking him insane. "So we can discuss those other...matters, I'll just cut to the chase. I hate clichés, and I sense that a man with your proclivities must do so as well. But it seems to fit." Before continuing with his thoughts, he eyed Tom for an indeterminate amount of time. He could easily see that Tom still thought him insane. Good. "Before you begin harping on your civil rights and whether or not the Chicago police had probable cause to pick you up, you should be aware that I know all about your past. I know you've had a hand in a few bank robberies here and there. With that in mind, I can safely say it's more than enough for you to join us today to answer a few questions. Don't you agree?" He paused as if giving Kipplinger a chance to speak, and the man had actually opened his mouth to do so, but it wasn't his show. Today, the stage belonged to one man: Frank Donovan. Plunging full steam ahead, he asked, "What can you tell me about the Sideshow?"

Tom shook his head and smiled cockily. Inside, he was somewhat shaken up. How much did this federal dick know about the jobs? Did he know his girlfriend was one of the ringleaders? Of course he didn't. It was obvious in his demeanor. He apparently believed his little girlfriend was an innocent, sweet angel. For all his arrogance and venom, the murdering bastard was an idiot. Tom was close to giving Mr. Federal Agent the story of all stories. "What makes you think I know anything about that? Since the day you gunned down my buddy, I've been living a relatively clean life. Honest I have."

Donovan saw right through this man. He was more than tempted to jump him, but he had to control that impulse. "Yes, I'm sure," he commented dryly. "Let's just say that the FBI has been digging around and they, as well as I, believe that you are in the thick of it. I'm not promising to cut you a break or anything, but if I were you, I would change my tune." He smiled wryly. "Yet another cliché to add to the list." He gave Kipplinger a blank look. At that moment, there was no light or life in his eyes at all. It was a look that made most people cringe. "You're trying my patience," he said hollowly. "And I hate that more than anything, even one's use of tired clichés. I know your game, I've played it. Tell me what you know about the Sideshow."

"Wouldn't you rather hear what I know about Kayla," Tom asked pointedly. "I can tell you lots of stuff about her."

Donovan didn't flinch, but inside, his stomach was knotting up tensely. In the observation room, Alex stood by as well as a few Chicago cops. He didn't know about the cops, but he figured Alex would have questions, questions he was certainly not prepared to answer. "Sorry, that's out of my range right now," he said blandly. "I think you should stick to the topic at hand. I don't like repeating myself."

Tom smiled and ran his hands through his long, raven locks. "Is she? When you were beating the shit out of me, she seemed to be right in your range. Something tells me that you don't know much about Kay." He sighed. "Sure, you're doing her, but you're clueless. It's obvious and kinda sad if you want my opinion."

Rage painted Donovan's brown eyes black. "It will be my distinct pleasure to watch you rot in prison." Although unaware, those words would come back to haunt him in less than two days. His unchecked rage would be directed toward an unexpected source.

"Yeah, man, whatever," Tom said, disinterested. "You got nothing on me. Have your cop buddies let me go or I will call my attorney and have all your badges in my grubby little paws."

At that moment, Donovan had to leave the room. If he didn't, he knew his hands would be around the other man's throat in split seconds. He would gleefully kill him without a thought as to what consequences awaited him. As he left the room, he slammed the door behind him. He was intent on getting the hell out of there. He had totally forgotten all about Alex. She came out of the observation room moments after he began storming toward the building's exit. He wanted to get outside in the fresh air and calm down before he lost his mind. Kipplinger was right. They had nothing solid on him, just a hunch here and there. Damn it to hell.

"What was that about in there?"

Donovan focused his eyes on Alex's serene face. He had expected this to happen. His private life was his. It was almost sacred to him. Not sure how much he wanted to tell her, he shook his head. "We have a mutual acquaintance."

He said nothing else, didn't bother to expand on it. He continued on toward his truck parked only a few feet away. Kipplinger was the key to the gang. He had no doubt. One way or another, he would see to it that he paid for his misdeeds.

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Much later, Kayla was in bed when Frank came home. She was totally unaware of his presence until he slid into bed beside her. The instant she recognized his scent and touch, she turned toward him. She knew he had been giving him the cold shoulder lately, but he still held onto her. She didn't understand why he refused to give up on her. He loves you, you stupid idiot. That's why. He had stripped down to nothing, but his body was still warm and so very inviting. Tonight would probably be the last night they would be together, and she didn't know if she could let him go, but she had to do it. Without opening her eyes, she moved closer to him, her lips seeking his with a will almost their own. Her kiss was soft, but he quickly deepened it, kissing her hard, plunging his tongue into her sweet mouth. During the kiss, his body drifted over hers, and she felt every line, every muscle.

She broke the kiss after several long moments. She gazed up into his beautiful, beautiful eyes. "I love you so much," she whispered. "I know I haven't been at my best these last two weeks, and I'm sorry for that. This...this may sound corny or melodramatic, but you make me feel so alive. I've never felt like this before and I don't think I'll ever feel this way again."

After what happened today, there was so much he wanted to say to her, so much he wanted to ask, but it wouldn't come to the surface. Not just yet. "Kayla, are you planning to leave?"

She shook her head. It was another lie in an endless pack of them. "No."

Her answer was quick, almost too quick. The interrogator in him could not let it go. "You have to tell the truth. I can't protect you if you don't tell me the truth."

She moved away from him and sat up on the side of the bed. "What is this truly about, Frank?"

Her back was to him and he wasn't about to speak to her like this. Moving away from the bed, he came around to face her. As he had done numerous times, he kneeled before her, placing his body between her thighs. There was no way she could get away from him in this stance. "You don't know what you do to me."

"Or you to me," she whispered.

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As Donovan and Kayla spent their last night together, Tom Kipplinger was pretty busy himself. His band had performed tonight, and they had played badly. His talent far surpassed theirs, and he wasn't even sure why he messed with those losers anyway. He wasn't just irritated about the band. The meeting he had with that FBI jerk had him knotted up and tense. There was no way in hell he was going to take the downfall for something that had nothing to do with him anymore. He was more than tempted to call the ass and tell him that his permanent piece was one of the masterminds behind the whole operation. That thought comforted him, brought a smile to his face. He made moves to prepare to leave, but a familiar face stopped him. His smile broadened. It was Nigel's woman, Louisa. He hadn't seen her in a while, and especially hadn't since Carson booted him from the gang. It was time to make a connection. A good one.

Later, much later, Tom sat back in bed very proud of himself. He had gotten Louisa drunk on cheap rot gut whiskey. She fell into his bed willingly enough. After screwing her until he thought his body would dry up from fluid loss, he pretended to be drunk himself, and he told her all about the gang's next big job and Kayla's FBI lover. The information had sobered her right up. As much as Kayla before him, he knew Louisa was one of the weaker members of the gang. He wondered how long it would take for her to break. Tom laughed out loud and heartily. Goddamn, but he loved revenge.

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Kayla gazed down at her sleeping lover. After they made love, Frank held her close to him for many hours. She loved the comfort he offered, the warmth of his body, and the sincerity of his words. But she needed to get away. She waited for him to fall asleep, and when he did, she left his arms for what she was certain was the last time. She had then set about gathering enough clothing to do her. She hadn't brought much to Frank's house. This she had done on purpose, because she knew how the story would end. She had composed a note, and this she placed on the pillow she had been calling hers for two weeks. She wanted to touch him before she left, but realized it would be a very bad idea. He would awaken and immediately demand that she tell him what she was doing. Perhaps that was what she wanted to do. However, she could no longer delay the inevitable. I love you, Frank. I hope that some day you can forgive me. Without another sound, she turned and left the room.

She might have been out of the house a total of ten minutes when Donovan's eyes came open. Something had awakened him, some little noise. Perhaps it was the sound of Kayla's ancient, rattling car coming to life with a roar. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. If he had turned the other way, he wouldn't have seen the note. He would have probably knocked it down onto the floor, completely out of sight. But somehow, fate decided to be kind. He saw the note and instantly knew Kayla had lied to him about leaving. With impatient motions, he unfolded the single sheet of paper and began to read the words of one desperate Kayla Armstrong:

Dear Frank,

I'm not sure you will understand this note or even why I'm writing it. But as you know, I did lie to you. I had to leave and take care of some unfinished business. You might never forgive me, but you will understand. You will probably think I'm lying again when I say that I love you very deeply, and my leaving is part of that love for you. It is the main reason why I left. You are a very thorough investigator, and knowing you the way I do, you will try to contact me. I ask that you don't. I won't answer my phone. I won't be at the apartment. What we had together was indescribable and I will never forget it or you as long as I live. Regardless of what happens in the next few days, always know that I love you. Forever. That is no lie. It never was. Remember that in the coming weeks.

Love,

Kayla

Donovan was very tempted to rip the note into a billion pieces, but he hesitated. She didn't want to be found, but he didn't care. He would find her, but it wouldn't be in the manner he thought.

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Carson and Kayla Falcon sat outside the huge main branch of Chicago Federal. They had each donned their freak show carnival masks for what would be the very last time. Carson glanced at his younger sister. Although her face was covered from view, it didn't take a genius to realize that she was uptight, upset, and sick. For the last two days, she had been leaning over a toilet bowl as if it were her long lost friend.

"Can you do this?"

Kayla turned her head toward her brother. His voice was muffled behind the ridiculous mask. "I can." Her stomach lurched sickly. She hoped she could get through this without vomiting. "I just want it over."

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Little did the Falcon siblings know, but their every move was being watched by half a dozen federal agents and an equal number of Chicago's finest. The anonymous call had come in ten minutes ago. It was a young man trying desperately hard to disguise his voice. Donovan already had Cody working on the recording, tearing it apart, searching for clues. He had no idea...just yet...that it was Tom Kipplinger. All he did know was that the voice had reported a possible robbery at Chicago Federal. Look out for a large, white van. No windows, the caller had said. The ringleaders will be inside, preparing for their last job.

Donovan was tense and wired. The last two days had been a living hell. Not only was he focused on the situation currently unfolding before him, but part of him couldn't keep out thoughts of Kayla. He had honored her request, hoping that she would change her mind. If she didn't, he would pursue her, regardless of what she asked him to do. He loved her, wanted to marry her, and he had no doubt that she wanted the same. He simply just couldn't give up and let her go. Distractedly, he shook his head. Leave it behind. You have a job to do, and if this lead is legitimate, the Sideshow case will soon be history. He had no idea that today would embrace him, encompassing the rest of his life. For now, he shoved it all aside. If this vehicle did indeed contain the ringleaders of the Sideshow, then there was no way in hell he could lose his focus. After this job was done, he would follow his heart.

He held his breath as the doors of the van came open. It all seemed to be happening in slow motion. Frank Donovan seemed to be on two planes of existence. One plane was totally focused on the van. The other was forcing him to listen to Cody's voice inside his ear. Later, he would think back to this moment, and wonder if he had somehow known how today would turn out. Two bodies emerged, both swaddled in black, both with their heads totally covered by hideous carnival masks. One was a man. The other a woman. The lead was dead on. It wasn't a fluke or someone reaching for his fifteen minutes of fame. Suddenly, Donovan realized that it wasn't Tom Kipplinger behind the mask. It was someone else. Perhaps a moment too late, he realized that it was Tom Kipplinger who had made the call, and Donovan had been dead wrong to believe he was behind the Sideshow. He didn't have time to process the complex thoughts threatening to consume him. The moment two armed members of the Sideshow came out into the open, he heard an indignant bellow: FREEZE!!!! Horrified, he realized it was one of his own. The time for reprimanding the agent would come later. After all, they had all gone through the wringer for this case, and everyone was impatient and on edge. However, calmness was not the catch phrase of the day. The moment Jake's roar reached the ears of the robbers, the man turned toward the voice and raised a small handgun.

It was in that split second that Kayla Falcon looked up. For the first time today, she noticed that they were surrounded by a horde of surly law enforcement personnel. One individual caught her attention in particular. Frank! She opened her mouth to scream out to her brother. He had drawn down on a federal agent. His life was about to be forfeit. Yet, she couldn't stand by and see her brother gun down the man she loved. No sound could reach her. Not yet. The shock and horror of the situation was far too intense. The next thing she heard was the sound of a gun firing and the unmistakable report of return gun fire. Carson had shot the young agent and he went down, but before he could dive out of the way, the agent fired back. Kayla wasn't sure who was hit where, but both men went down.

Donovan gritted his teeth angrily. They didn't need this. They really didn't. Rather harshly, more so than he intended, he barked. "Jake? What the hell? Were you hit?"

"It's okay, Boss," Jake spat furiously. "Stupid shit shot me in the ass. Graze wound. It didn't penetrate the flesh."

Vaguely, Donovan heard a brief quip from Cody: "Glad you're all right, Agent Shaw. Should we change the name of the gang from Sideshow to the Ass Bandits?"

"Cut the shit," Donovan barked again. "Shots fired. One agent down. One suspect down. Move in..."

Before he could finish his sentence, movement from ahead drew his attention. He thought the fallen suspect's partner was going to fire back in kind. However, she went down to her knees beside the man. Donovan froze, his body more wired than ever before. He had drawn his own weapon without realizing it. The woman took hold of her partner's gun, but she didn't fire. Instead, she did something completely unexpected. She raised her head and screamed out: CARSON! Nooooooo! It was then that Donovan's body stopped working, his mind went numb, and he felt nothing. The voice. The name. No. It can't be. She brought her body up slowly to her feet, never releasing her hold on the handgun. She turned toward him. Again, he had the feeling that everything was moving in slow motion. Time stood still, but droned on and on at the same time. His heart grew cold, solid, much like a block of ice. He felt nothing. He was nothing. When she faced him, she took hold of the mask and showed him her face. She held an intense gaze with him for a very short time, but it seemed like hours. Donovan didn't care. He felt nothing. He was nothing. Perhaps he would awaken from this nightmare. Perhaps she would shoot him and end this incredible, biting pain. Perhaps the shock itself would kill him and he wouldn't have to face the fact that this woman, the one he wanted to marry, the one who had shared his bed, the one who had shared his life, was a criminal...a criminal he detested...a criminal who had literally given him life and made it hell at the same time. Kayla...

Outside himself now, Donovan barely heard the words drifting into his ear. It was Cody again. This time with more news. "Word just in. We have a confession from one of the gang members. The leaders are brother and sister. Carson and Kayla Falcon."

Donovan heard nothing. He had to remind himself that he felt nothing, that he was nothing. He heard one name over and over in his mind: Kayla...

To be continued...