Second Chances: Like Father, Like Son, Like a Simon
Training his son to be a private investigator is harder then Rick thought, but when a pair of vicious brothers target their family, the Simons team together to bring them down. Dedicated to fan fic writers everywhere!
(This is a fictional story, and no money is being made from it. The characters from Simon & Simon and Six Million Dollar Man are owned by Universal Studios and are only being borrowed for a little while, I promise to put them back when I'm done.)
Author's note-please excuse the Chapter numbers-the new way of loading chapters doesn't allow seeing if the correct order is loaded! And now..."Like Father, Like Son, Like Simon."
"Pop, you have to wait for Ron, we can't go searching Santos's store without a warrant."
Rick Simon tried to hide a grin. His son was still in his sheriff mode, time for him to learn to improvise.
"I know, son. But nothing says I can't just go in and look, does it?"
Robbie Simon stared back at his father, then reluctantly nodded. "No, but, just be careful. I don't want to tip him off."
Rick heard the unspoken "or see you get hurt." His son had only worked with he and A.J. for six months, but he could read Robbie like a book.
"I know, Robbie, I'll get in and get out, just so we know what he's hiding." The older Simon replied, putting a hand on his son's shoulder.
Behind him, A.J. smiled and shook his head. His nephew was more cautious then he ever was, but he was a lot smarter.
"All right, Rick, turn your transmitter on, we'll be there in 2 seconds if we hear anything off, got it?"
"Yes, A.J.." His older brother sighed, then ruffled his hair as he got out of the truck. He straightened himself stiffly, noticing his bad knee was letting off notice that rain was around the corner. Trying not to wince, he stepped onto the curb, then crossed the street to the corner shop they had under surveillance. According to their friend Ron Johnson, illegal shipments of Indian relics were being funneled through a souvenir wholesaler, and Western Kitsch, Inc. was the most likely drop-off point.
Watching Rick limp into the trading post, A.J. frowned. "Robbie, when did your Dad start having trouble with his knee?"
"About a month ago, Uncle A.J., but this is the first time I've seen him having that much of a limp. Maybe I'd better go back him up….." Robbie started, then stopped as his father's voice came over his transmitter. "Yeah, looking for something a little more, you know, real. No "made in Hong Kong" for me."
A rough voice replied. "What'cha have in mind, mister, we've got all kinds of artifacts, skulls, bones, jewelry. It'll cost you more for the real deal."
Both A.J. and Robbie listened to the sounds of cases being opened, then closed. Rick's voice making comments. After a few minutes the two Simons heard him make an excuse to leave.
"Well, I, uh, know someone who'll pay the big money for legit stuff. I just have to go get him so he can see what you've got." Robbie's "all right, Pop, now get out of there." brought a smile to A.J.'s face, only to turn into a frown as another man's voice startled them.
"Nice try, Simon. Vinny here would have bought your line. Now, what do you really want?"
Immediately Robbie got out of the car, then crept along the wall of the building until he reached the side door. Glancing around, he saw that A.J. had signaled to Chief Johnson and had gone to cover the rear of the shop.
Inside, Rick swore inwardly. "Great, I had to screw things up…. now the trick is to get out of here."
"Long time no see, Raj. I thought you'd gone out of the "tourist" trade?" Rick answered, then caught his brother's shadow in the rear of the store.
"I did, Simon. But this stuff is just aching to be sold to the highest bidder…..now put your hands where I can see them." Santos smirked, only to lose his smile as A.J.'s voice was heard from in back of him and his goons.
"Sorry, Mr. Santos. Looks like you're the one who'll have to put your hands where I can see them."
A moment later both men were being read their rights by one of Phoenix's finest,and Rick was being read the riot act by Chief Johnson.
"Rick, I ought to take you downtown and throw you in a cell, of all the lame, stupid, rookie stunts to pull…."
Rick opened his mouth to protest, then saw the look on both A.J. and Robbie's faces. Relief, mixed with disappointment. That hurt, he'd let the two of them down.
Instantly he held up his hand. "Ron, stop. I'm …." He swallowed hard, then continued.
"I'm sorry, I screwed up. I could have blown the whole thing, if A.J. and Robbie hadn't timed it just right, well, maybe I don't have it anymore."
At that Robbie immediately put an arm around his father. "No Pop, you just taught me two lessons, never fly solo without a plan, and…. how to take responsibility like a man. You're still the best. Thank you."
Rick felt a lump in his throat and grabbed his son in a bear hug. A.J. wiped his eyesfurtively then heard Ron clear his throat. "Okay, guys, time to wrap this up at the station."
Rick released Robbie from his embrace, as A.J. patted him on the back. "Nice save, Rick. Let's finish this up then surprise the girls with dinner."
The older Simon laughed, then tousled his brother's hair. "Good idea, little brother. Ron, why don't you call Abby and have her meet you at A.J.'s. I owe you."
Their friend just shook his head, grinning. "Yes you do, Rick, but I'll let you off the hook on the condition that Abby and I bring dessert. I think Laurie would like a lemon pie, don't you?"
As the four men laughed, neither of them noticed a figure watching from a parked car down the block . The watcher frowned angrily as he saw the three Simons and the Chief of Detectives climb in their cars and follow the police cruiser bearing the suspects.
"We'll see who laughs last, Simon. There won't be a one of you left when I'm done."