AN: Here's the next chapter. It was very hard for me to write this one, maybe later I'll tell you why.
Now: read and enjoy and please don't forget to drop a review. Thank you very much!
Chapter 3.
When Bailey arrived back it was almost 5 p.m. John must have heard the car coming as he was standing already in the front door waiting for him.
"Is there something new?" he asked, when Bailey got out of the car.
"Actually yes, but nothing good" he answered. "Carnagie was seen on a side-road near Dillon. A patrol reported him then the central lost contact with him. Another patrol was sent to the scene and they found the officer dead in his car. His weapons disappeared."
"Great… any sign of him since then?"
"No. I brought a transceiver. I instructed the sheriff to let us know if anything happens. How is she?" he nodded at the house.
"Comparatively speaking, quite well" then abruptly John turned to the car. "I bring in the transceiver then."
"All right" Bailey was a little bit surprised by the quick change in subject. He actually was prepared to have an argument with John about keeping Chris here. When he left he had the impression that John wasn't really happy about the decision staying here and waiting for Carnagie.
John set up the transceiver in the living room and launched it. Bailey stopped in the doorway and watched him thoughtfully. Something was different about him. They haven't known each-other for too long but he has never seen him so relaxed. Not that he weren't casual most of the time: he smiled often and was nice and helpful to every member of the team but Bailey always felt some tense undertone behind this casualty. As if John didn't know how to take things easy. Now, as he was crouching over the device he was even whistling to himself.
"Oh, you're back" Chris walked in and she smiled at him nicely.
"Yes. Are you all right?"
"Of course. I'll survive. Did you hear something?"
"No, not really" he didn't want to tell her the newest murder when she was in such a good mood.
"What's that?" she asked pointing at the radio.
"I thought it would be good to have contact to the town."
"Yes, probably. Would you like something for dinner?" she asked then.
"Yes, very much. John?"
"Sure." But he didn't look up from the device.
"I need about twenty minutes" Chris declared. "You can take a shower if you want Agent Malone."
"Good idea. I'll go upstairs then."
He felt dirty and drained after driving the distance between the town and the house twice and sitting a day in the serif's small office.
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When he was finished he walked back down to the kitchen. From the corridor he could hear noises and Chris laughing. He stepped inside. John was standing at the table chopping something while Chris stood behind him, her left hand on his shoulder, the right on his hand that held the knife.
"Not that way…" Chris said.
They clearly didn't realized that Bailey came in and they seemed to be very intimate.
"I told you I'm hopeless in the kitchen."
"Yeah… or you just pretend so that you don't have to help out."
Bailey coughed and they flushed as if he had caught them at something.
"We're almost ready" Chris said. John wasn't looking at him and he definitely wasn't looking at Chris.
"Yeah, okay. Agent Grant, can I talk to you for a moment. Outside."
John put down the knife and followed him. They stopped on the porch where Bailey turned to his subordinate.
"What is this about?"
"I don't…"
"John! You're not a very good liar…" the younger man was looking everywhere but into his eyes. He absolutely looked like a red-handed teenager. Bailey couldn't be really mad at him, but still…
"We got quite close in the last two days."
"Quite?" he asked threateningly and John blushed up to the ears. It was as good as a confession. "You know that this is highly unprofessional and against every single FBI-rule about witness-protection!"
"I know" he said quietly. "But…"
"No. I don't want to hear it. You have to tell her that there can be nothing more between you. At least not until we are finished here. Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"You tell her after dinner?"
"Yes, sir."
"All right, then. And I don't want to talk about this again."
"Yes, sir."
During dinner tension was tangible in the room. Chris obviously knew what they could be talking about and she deliberately avoided every eye-contact with John, just like John didn't want to look at her. Bailey would have laughed at them if they didn't seem to be so miserable.
They finished quite quickly. Actually, John didn't eat at all, just played with the food and when Chris also finished pretending and put down her fork, he jumped up.
"Can we talk?"
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"He scolded you, didn't he?" Chris asked immediately when the door closed behind them.
They were in the guest-room, where John slept last night, which maybe wasn't the best idea, but the study didn't have a door. And this was still better than being in Chris' bedroom again.
"Yes, he did. And he was right. We can't continue this."
"I know" she answered quietly, but John continued as if he hadn't heard her.
"You're in danger and I have to be professional. I can't make use of your situation…"
"You didn't make use of the situation. I'm a grown woman and I wanted it just like you did."
"You're vulnerable."
"Maybe. But this doesn't mean that I can't know what I want."
She stepped closer and as the room was very small they were already standing next to the bed.
"I can't be emotional when I have to make decisions…" he started again.
"Can you change your emotions if we are not physically together?" as she looked up at him, John could see the raw emotions in her eyes.
He knew that she was scared, that she needed somebody to hold her and love her. Tears were glistening in her eyes and something else, something deeper. Maybe the knowledge that this might be her last night alive. John knew that he couldn't resist much longer.
"I don't want you to get into trouble, but… I need you… please don't push me away…" her voice was hoarse and she looked at him pleadingly.
"I don't want to…"
Her hands were on his chest and John caressed them and pulled her closer.
"This is wrong…" he said again but there was no real resistance in his voice anymore.
"I know…" She was much shorter than him, and at the moment she looked even smaller… so fragile.
She buried her face in his shoulder.
"I know…" she whispered again.
And John could do nothing but hold her tight and give her all his unconditional love at least for one single night.
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When John woke up the sun was just coming up outside. The dim lights bathed the sleeping form next to him and for a moment he could only admire her perfect shape. Chris was simply beautiful, he had to admit that. And he also had to admit that he didn't regret what they did during the night. How could he have regretted it? Maybe it wasn't real love what they shared – in this extraordinary situation, it was hard to tell - but it was definitely damned close to it!
He carefully got up and got dressed, then threw a last look at Chris and left the room quietly.
The house was eerily calm. He looked into the living-room where Bailey was sleeping on the couch in a particularly uncomfortable-looking position, then went into the kitchen to prepare some coffee.
Ten minutes and a good portion of caffeine later he decided to check outside. He went out the back-door and in that instant he stopped frozen. He's seen many things in his life but his stomach objected against the sight.
"Holy shit…" he burst out involuntary and pulled out his weapon immediately.
The porch was splashed full with blood. The slaughtered body of the huge St. Bernard was spread at the bottom of the stairs but its head was carefully placed on the chair that stood on the porch, it facing the back-door with dead eyes.
He heard a small gasp from behind. Chris stood on the doorstep. Her mouth slightly open, her lips trembling and her eyes wide with shock and horror.
The next moment she practically jumped from the porch and started to run. After the initial shock John followed her. Chris stopped just as abruptly as she started to run and John almost collided into her. They were in the middle of the free space between the house and the forest which was very wrong. Carnagie could easily take them down. But judging from his file he preferred closer contact with his victims.
"We have to go back into the house, Chris…"
But she didn't listen.
"You sick bastard!" she shouted and the words echoed loudly in the stillness of the dawn. "Come out and take me! Take me! I don't fear you! Come out!"
John tried to make her listen but in vain and the end he decided to yank her back bodily. However with unexpected strength she freed herself from his arms and continued in the same manner.
He had no other choice than to get rid of his gun and use both of his hands. He hugged her from behind and lifted her up. She kicked out and tried to free herself. Bailey arrived there by their side though and together they managed to haul her up and dragged her back into the kitchen.
By that time she was crying silently in John's arms and when he put her down on the couch it seemed that all her strength left her.
"Why? Why Max?" she cried. John sat down next her and hugged her tightly not caring that Bailey appreciated it or not. The older agent watched them for a while and then said.
"I'll let you alone…"
"John…"
"I'm here. It will be okay" he said comfortingly.
"Why did you come here?" she whispered, all her tears gone away. "He will kill you, as well."
"No, he won't."
She just shook her head and stood up.
"I feel sick" she said simply. "I'll be in my room."
With that she left and John didn't know what to do now.
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"I think I found something, sir."
Bailey was relaxing in his office after interrogating Felon for hours, when Detective Grant asked if he could come in. The younger man was incredibly formal with him, which surprised Bailey a little bit as police officers usually didn't respect FBI agents.
"What is it?"
"Felon has an elder brother. His name is Joshua and was in psychiatrical care for a while when he was in his early twenties. This is him" he put down a photo on the desk. It was a picture of a young, dark-haired man, with a dark complexion. He had extremely broad shoulders and over all muscular.
"But Felon is absolutely white" Bailey said surprised.
"Yes. Their father's mother was of mixed-blood though. It didn't show on James, their father – I found a photo of him, either, but it definitely showed on Joshua. James obviously didn't like it: I found his hospital-files."
"I see. Do we know where he's now?"
"Not really. But I bet his brother knows."
Armoured with this information, Bailey went back to ask Felon, it didn't take long until he broke down and started to speak.
"Whatever he did, he's still my brother" the man had tears in his eyes as he spoke. "He suffered so much! You can't understand this… when we were children…" he trailed of.
"What happened when you were children?" asked Bailey.
"Dad never let him alone. Though he didn't treated him as a son, either. He always called him bastard and beat him up very often. Then he closed him in, in the dark basement. Josh was scared of that place… he always cried but Dad didn't let him out for hours. It was cold down there and rats and spiders…"
"Do you think that he is capable of murder?"
"Yes…" he said it so quietly that Bailey had to bent forward to hear it.
"Do you know where he is now?"
"No… I'm not sure… he has a small house near the Stone Mountain Park… He's often there…"
"All right."
"I'm sorry… I wanted to do something … I went to find him and took away his axe… but I couldn't… I just couldn't…"
"I understand Mr. Felon… After the paperwork is done you can go home, but please stay in the city until we close the case."
The man just nodded and stared at his hands, totally devastated.
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A few hours later they were at the house Felon talked about. It was really small with only one room and a small kitchen. It was practically empty but the small hovel next to it was much more interesting. It was like a museum of murders. There was a small cabinet full of vials – probably the drugs, he used. Then in the corner more axes and a few of them had even grim-looking marks on. The most horrible thing was though the fridge. Bailey guessed what they would find in it but it still shook him: in there were many – if not all – of the missing body parts. Mostly heads. The smell of blood and dilapidation didn't help either.
They soon stepped outside and closed down the small building.
"I'll call the crime scene investigators…"
In that moment something caught his eyes: a shadow was moving under the woods. He gestured at Nathan who immediately comprehended the situation. Bailey continued as if nothing had happened.
"We have to investigate the area. Please call some patrols to close down the roads."
"I'm right on it."
Meanwhile they slowly walked closer to the woods. When they felt they were close enough Bailey quickly drew out his gun and shouted.
"FBI! Stay where you are!"
Nathan followed suit. John, who was in the house until now, looking through the few belongings Joshua Felon owned came out his gun at ready as well.
Joshua though didn't follow the orders instead he sprinted off. He was quite right actually, as between the trees it was almost impossible to target him properly. So, they had no other choice than to put up a second chase on the same day.
"Let's split up!" Bailey ordered, and so they did.
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Nathan was on the heels of their suspect. He could see him clearly, but every time he tried to target him, he disappeared behind one tree or another. He saw as John started to run left, while Bailey went right to enclose Felon. Everything seemed to go just right but then something unexpected happened.
Felon disappeared behind a tree… and he didn't show up on the other side.
"What the hell…" Nathan cursed.
He looked around to determine in which direction to go, but he saw no indication of the suspect. He couldn't have vanish! He's at least 6 and a half feet, he can't disappear just like that! he thought.
A few moments passed by in absolute puzzle, then he glimpsed John.
"Where is he?" the young detective asked just as surprised.
"No idea! I don't understand how I could lost him!" he shouted back.
John reached his side and looked around.
"Maybe he ran in Agent Malone's direction…" he suggested.
"I saw him disappear behind this tree…" He wanted to continue but then he saw something that made him change his mind. "How cunning…"
"What…?" started John but then he looked there where Nathan pointed and trailed of.
There was a well-hided trap-door at the bottom of the tree.
"Shall we go after him?" John asked.
"We should wait for Bailey first, and maybe call in some force before we walk underground."
They turned in that direction where the boss of VCTF should have arrived and waited, but ten minutes went by and he just didn't want to show up. Nathan tried the radio a few times but there was no answer.
"Something's wrong…" and he couldn't hide the worry in his voice.
Without talking, in union they started off. They searched the area and after a while they found what they were searching for. There was an area where the plants were visibly more tread down than otherwise. After some searching they found blood on one of the trees and Nathan became more and more nervous with every passing moment.
"There has to be another trap-door here around."
It took a while to find that one but they did. Nathan was unsure what to do. Should they go back to the car report in and ask for reinforcing? With his small walkie-talkie he couldn't do that, it only had a few miles radius. Or should they go after Bailey immediately. It started to get dark and he had to decide. He looked at Detective Grant and knew that he can count on him, whatever he chooses.
"Let's go down…" he said at last.
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AN2: I have to admit that for a long time I didn't wanted to kill of Max. I simply adore dogs and I can't watch dogs suffering or being hurt in any way. But I couldn't the anything else, the story didn't let me, if you know what I mean. But my hands were trembling when I wrote that part.
Anyway, thank you again for reading! Until next time!