The Locked Door by Joni Fowler
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction for entertainment purposes only. The characters and concepts of Hardcastle & McCormick do not belong to me, but to their creators.
Rating: K
Author's Notes: So here's my attempt at the second story starter from the forum. Time Frame is set about nine months after Rolling Thunder.
You know . . . there's nothing as tempting as a locked door, especially when you know you can open it and no one be the wiser. That was Mark McCormick situation right now.
McCormick had been a street smart teenager with a love of cars and speed. That's how he'd ended up with the joyriding beef as a kid, that Hardcase would never let him live down. He later made his way to Florida where he used his street knowledge and love for cars to get a legal job. At least that's what he thought when he started re-possessing cars. There had been some problems with the paperwork as well as the company's credentials outside of Florida so he had ended up in trouble there too. He finally got his foot in the door of the racing circuit and eventually made his way to California, where he was doing good. He actually was staying out of trouble an making some legal money doing what he liked . . . driving fast. His racing dream looked as though he might just be able to turn it into a career. He had dreamed of being a top name in racing. With his friend Flip's help and backing he might just have made it, until that fight with Melinda. He had left with friends, hoping things would cool down. Then, he returned later to get his car. It wasn't fifteen minutes and he was being pulled over by the highway patrol and quickly arrested for stealing the Porsche. It didn't matter that the receipts were in his name, the car was registered to Melinda. The next two years in San Quentin were suppose to correct his waywardness, but in reality, he learned to fine tune his street talents. Along with knowing how to hot wire a car he learned how to recognize and get around burglary alarms on them. He learned how to crack safes and he learned how to pick most any lock made. Yeah, he had learned how to pull off anything from a car boost to a multiple story burglary with the toughest of safes.
Deep down McComick was a good guy and had invested his time learning these tricks because all he had was time and he'd been bored. He had no intentions of using them for illegal gain once he got out. He also had no idea that he'd end up playing Tonto to the crazy judge that sent him up for two years of his life. Now his talents were put on a back shelf, that was until the judge needed a little elf to bring him evidence that his legal system just couldn't obtain.
But, that was not the situation tonight. Tonight, Hardcase was gone for the weekend and Sarah was at her sister's. McCormick was alone, alone on the judge's estate. He had not only been trusted to stay there alone, but had been trusted to keep anything from going wrong on the estate. The front gate was shut and the alarms set as McCormick decided to get ready for bed. Then he remembered that Hardcase had insisted he make a check of the main house and grounds. He hadn't wanted to go into the main house with no one there but the judge insisted that he go in, turn off the den's light and turn on the upstairs bathroom light to give the house a normal look. Mark knew if Hardcastle came home and found the place not as he had wanted he'd live hard for a long time. So, he found his shoes and made his way to the main house, took out his key and entered. He went to the quiet almost eerie den and turned off the light, then made his way up to the bathroom off from Hardcastle's bedroom. He turned on the light and was making his way down the long hall when he heard a noise. He knew it was likely just a normal house noise, settling or something, but he began opening the doors to the extra bedrooms, scanning then to be sure no one had entered the house.
That's when he came to the last door at the end of the hall. He put his hand on the knob to open it but the door was locked. McCormick had lived on the estate for almost a year, he and the donkey had been through a lot. Mark had been Tonto and in the down time he'd been the handyman and yards man. He thought by now he'd been in everyplace on the estate, though he hadn't remembered being in the room before. Hardcase had pretty much made it clear there was no place off limits to him, but now here was a locked door. Mark shrugged his shoulders, turned, and started down the hall, then he stopped. Many thoughts were running through his head right now, 'Had this door always been locked. Had it only been locked after he arrived at Gulls Way? This is silly, even Haradcse can have a locked door.' Mark took several more steps away from the door, then stopped and went back to it. He checked it again and said to himself, "Yeap, definitely locked". Mark heard himself say and thought, 'And you could be by that lock in ten seconds.'
But he wouldn't this was the judge's house and he had given his word he'd never steal from the man. Again the voice said, 'So, who's stealing? You're just curious what's behind the door.' Mark heard himself say out loud, "And curiosity killed the cat and the ex-con." He walked with purpose away from the door, thinking as he walked, 'Was this a test? In Hardcastle's warped thinking had he set this up, insisting that he check the house, just to see if he'd respect the locked door. Hell, Hardcastle knew as well as he did that the lock on that door could have been jimmied with a credit card for Christ's sake.'
Back at the gate house several hours later, McCormick still awake in bed, was wondering just what was behind the locked door. He wasn't going to steal anything. Hardcastle would never know he even opened the door, but there it was again, the voice, 'But, you would know. He trusted you with the whole estate, for the whole weekend and you want to open the door just because it's locked. Could you look him in the eye again knowing you broke his trust?' He rolled over, tucked himself deep in the covers went to sleep.
McCormick made coffee for a change in his small kitchen, then started the list of chores he had been left. Several hours later he went to the gate house for a bit of lunch. Opening the bread he found that it might help a virus but it wouldn't do much for lunch. He would have to go raid the judge's refrigerator. He started out the front door, stopped, picked up his wallet from the table by the front door and put it in his back pocket. He had done so purposely, but really tried to convince himself otherwise on the way to the house. He made a sandwich, grabbed some chips and beer and went to the patio to watch the ocean. It was a view he never tired of. After lunch he took the empty bottle and plate in the house, tossed the bottle, washed the plate, then remembered the bathroom light should be turned off and the den light on before dark. He walked upstairs turned off the light and started back down when he came to the door again. His hand went to the handle, yeah, it was still locked. Then, his hand went to his wallet, took out his driver's license. Mark knew that there's nothing as tempting as a locked door especially when you knew you could open it and no one be the wiser. He knew it would also mean crossing a line, a very fine line and he knew there would be no taking it back should he cross it...