Chapter 6

The Desert Pine had to be one of the worst motels in Vegas, Warrick decided as he pulled into the parking lot. At two in the morning, a decent motel would be quiet, but this place was hopping with activity. It certainly wasn't the type of activity he wanted to know about either.

Finding room 502, he knocked loudly. When there was no answer, he banged again even louder. Where would a guy be at this hour? With a grin, he realized, Vegas always had something going on and someplace you could be. Before Gemma, he hadn't stayed home at night.

"That hunk isn't in there." A female voice called out to him. Turning, Warrick spotted a young prostitute leaning out of a doorway a few doors down. She looked to be in her late thirties, but living the life she lived, she could be younger. "One hunk looking for another." She whistled, smiling at him. "No wonder he wouldn't have anything to do with me, if he's got you." Sauntering up to Warrick, she gave him a thorough once-over. "Damn, you are one sexy piece of meat! You go share that with the girls too, or just the boys?"

"You see him tonight? You know where he went?" Warrick ignored her flirtation. He never took any flirtation from a hooker as serious. They weren't exactly meticulous about who they were with. This one seemed to be going beyond flirtation.

"Sure do. Honey, why don't you give me a kiss and I'll tell ya?" She pushed up close to him, pressing her half-covered breasts up against his arm.

"I only kiss my wife." Warrick replied dryly, stepping back away from the woman. He admitted that she was good looking, but he wasn't interested. He was truly in love with his wife. No one had interested him since he'd met Gemma. "And you are not her."

"Too bad." She pouted prettily. "He's over at Mel's." She motioned to the bar across the street with a jerk of her head. Warrick looked at the bar in question; it was a hive of activity. Like most places in Vegas, it would not close until the sun came up. He grimaced, wondering if he was really up to talking with this person. Both Nick and Gemma felt it was important, so he had agreed when Nick insisted that he come find the man. He admitted, solely to himself, that he had been overtly rude to the man at the hospital. He really hadn't had any reason to kick the man out of the hospital.

Making up his mind, Warrick turned and headed to the bar. He knew it wasn't the type of place he would willingly frequent, but evidently, it was the type of place that Sean Arthur went to. It was, like the motel, there to cater to the lower class of people. The type of place he would be coming to for work.

Warrick snarled in disgust as he entered, thinking sarcastically that this guy must be pretty high quality if he came here. The place was a mess and the patrons weren't any better. Spotting the blonde man sitting at the end of the bar, he slid onto a barstool beside him. He felt a little better when he saw that the Englishman didn't fit in. Sean Arthur was too nicely dressed compared to the average clientele in the place. "Mind if I buy you a drink Arthur?"

There was a beer in front of the man, but it barely looked as if it had been touched. Taking a moment to study the man, Warrick could see that this wasn't his first beer. Sean Arthur turned his bloodshot eyes to Warrick, and Warrick saw that the man was drunk. When the bartender came over, looking at Warrick expectantly, he held up two long fingers. "Coffee."

"I've got ale." Sean was trying to focus on Warrick, but having a hard time doing so. Warrick wondered how many drinks the man had had in the hours since he had last seen him. The drunk studied his face as Warrick removed the beer from in front of him. There was a look of hopelessness on his face as he nodded, "Thank you."

"No…., thank you. You took care of my family today. I was an asshole to you. I'd like to apologize." Warrick spat out, full of loath at having to do so.

"Painful, huh?" Green eyes sparkled with unshed laughter.

"What?"

"Apologizing, having to admit that you were wrong. I've had to do so a few times. Hurts like Hell." Sean smiled drunkenly, seeming to enjoy the idea of Warrick in pain.

"Yeah." Warrick agreed as the coffees were put in front of them. He glared at the barman as he grabbed a napkin to sop up the coffee that sloshed on the counter in front of him. Obviously, this place wasn't in business because of its excellent service.

"It's I-ironic. I've spent the last year…., hunting for you. I find you……, but you're nothing like what I'd imagined you to be. Then, you won't give me the time of day!" The laughter was gone from Sean's voice and expression. Even though he was under the influence, he was completely serious now.

"A year?" Warrick grimaced as he took a sip of the coffee; it was worse then the last dregs of the dayshift coffee. He wished for some of Greg's specially brewed coffee. "Why would you spend a year looking for me?"

"To find you, of course." Sean gave him a wide grin, but it didn't seem to really contain any levity. Warrick had to chuckle at the childlike answer.

"Okay, why did you want to find me? What happened a year ago for you to even know my name?" He rephrased it carefully. "It's not like I'm common knowledge anywhere but Vegas. Hell, this is a big town, I'm not exactly famous here either."

"My father died a year ago." Sean answered with a frown. "In his estate, there was letters,…. for my sister and me. In my letter, he wrote about a trip to America he once made. To Las Vegas." Sean motioned around him drunkenly. Warrick put a hand on his back to steady the man as he wobbled on his seat. "Business trip."

"Did I meet him or something?" Warrick tried to remember anyone by the name of Arthur. Nothing came to mind. Sean Arthur was older than he was, he guessed the father had to be at least in his late sixties when he died. The only men around that age that he dealt with were usually on a cold slab in the morgue.

"No…., it was a long time ago. I was a child at the time." Sean shook his head, he would have fallen off the stool if it hadn't have been for Warrick. "He fell in love with a woman who lived here. He had an affair. He ended it when he came back home. My mother never knew."

Sean looked at his coffee, seeming to get lost in the dark brew. Warrick nudged him. "What's this all got to do with me?"

"The woman…., wrote to him." Sean took a big gulp of the scalding coffee. "I have some of the letters. She wrote that she was pregnant…., his child. Later she wrote to him again. She had a baby boy."

"So, you want me to find the baby?" Warrick frowned, really confused by the way this conversation was spinning.. "I'm a criminalist, not a private detective. I can recommend some good people in that line of work."

"No! I know where he is….., I know who he is." Sean shook his head again, his eyes seemed clearer as he looked at Warrick again.

"Okay, I give. What's this got to do with me?" Talking in circles with a drunk was beginning to get on Warrick's nerves. He wanted to know the point to this conversation, and he wanted to know it now. He wanted to get out of this place, take a shower, get some sleep then go back to be with his wife.

"The baby's name was Warrick Edward Brown. He was born here in Las Vegas in October tenth of that year…. 1970. " Looking up at Warrick, Sean smiled. "You… were… that….. baby, Brother Mine!"

"I am not your brother!" Warrick's anger flared up, he jumped up off the stool, fists clenching at his sides. "I don't know who put you up to this shit, but lay off, man!"

"No one has 'put me up' to this." Sean turned, still wobbling on the stool. "I'm serious. I've done the research on-"

"I want you out of my life! I never want to see or hear from you ever again!" Warrick had an overwhelming desire to knock this man right to the floor. Raising his fist, he nearly did, but stopped just in time. He would not do that to his wife. He couldn't be that type of man anymore. So instead, he threatened the man, "If you ever try to contact me or my family ever again, I'll beat the shit out of you."

Turning on one heel, he stormed out of the bar. Anger spurred him to slam the car door extra hard. He gripped the steering well with hands shaking with his rage. He knew he was too upset to even consider driving just yet. He sat there, trying to control the desire to pummel the man to death. He let out a mirthless laugh, imagining the look on Gil's face when they were called to this place to solve the case of an Englishman beaten to death with a pair of fists.

He was still sitting there when Sean Arthur came out of the bar. Warrick watched the drunken man stumble out of the bar and make his way to the motel room. Seething anger burned through him as he watched the man until he disappeared into his room.