Chapter 5:

Four days earlier:

Don Eppes stepped out of the Assistant Director's office and looked around. He took note of the quickly averted eyes and the outright stares of his fellow agents. Word had gotten around that Special Agent Don Eppes was being investigated and today's meeting with A. D. Merrick was the topic of choice around the water cooler. Don returned the stares dispassionately.

The Assistant Director stepped out of his office right behind him, and Don turned. Merrick offered him his hand, which Don shook firmly. "This won't be easy to live down, Agent Eppes," he said. "Good luck." With that, Merrick brushed past and headed out of the FBI office. Straightening his jacket, Don took a deep breath and made for his desk.

Megan intercepted him on the way. "What happened?" she asked. "What did Merrick say?"

Don glanced at her, but didn't change his pace. "He said the investigation was closed."

"What did they find out?" she pressed.

Reaching his cubicle, Don pulled out his chair and sat down. He logged into his computer before replying. "They didn't find anything." Grabbing a nearby file, he opened it and began to read. He was aware Megan was waiting for more but remained silent.

After a few seconds, Megan pulled up another chair and sat beside him. In a low voice she asked, "What exactly is going on here?"

Don glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "I'm working," he replied as he began reading the next page in the folder.

"I'm not an idiot, Agent Eppes," Megan whispered harshly. "I can tell there's more going on here than a bogus internal investigation. And if you've ever done anything to compromise your integrity," she added, gesturing at his computer, "I'll eat that – plugs and all!"

Don allowed himself a small smile. Megan's flair for the dramatic was irresistible. Sobering immediately, he said, "Leave it be, Reeves."

She stared at him silently for a second and then seemed to come to a decision. "In case you've forgotten," she said as she stood, "David and Colby and I are all on your side, Don."

He lifted his eyes from the papers in front of him and met her gaze directly. "I'm counting on it."

-x-x-x-x-x-

"I'm telling you, David. He's up to something," Megan said as she and Agent Sinclair made their way to the parking lot after work. "He clammed right up about the investigation, but you should have seen the look he gave me – like he was trying to tell me something." She was brought up short by David's hand on her arm. "What?"

"Look," David gestured. On the far side of the lot, Don was having a conversation with two other FBI agents. "Isn't that Travers from Major Crimes?"

Megan looked over. Don seemed to be listening intently to what one of the men was saying. He began shaking his head. He turned as if to walk away, but the man grabbed his arm.

David said, "Come on." Both he and Megan moved to stand behind an FBI-issue SUV and they watched events unfold through the darkened windows. Don became agitated, throwing off the other man's arm and rounding on him. Heated words were exchanged and then the second man, who had previously had his back to them, turned and addressed Travers. Megan let out a gasp of surprise. "That's McKesson!" she exclaimed. "What the hell is going on?"

"Who's McKesson?" David asked. The argument seemed to be over. Both of the new agents were now listening to Don speak.

Megan turned to him. "Don't you remember? There was talk in the office about six months ago about an agent falsifying reports in Major Crimes?" David nodded. Pointing across the parking lot, Megan added, "It was McKesson!"

"Did they prove it, though?" Sinclair asked. Megan shook her head as she watched through the tinted glass. "No. The investigation was closed due to lack of evidence. Don said…" she trailed off and slowly turned her head to look at him. "Don did the investigation! Lack of evidence – and then Don's in trouble for evidence tampering?" She looked back through the glass. "What is going on here?"

"I'll tell you one thing I do know Megan," David replied. "There's no way Don would get mixed up in something like that."

Megan watched as Don got into a sedan with the other two men. "David," she said sorrowfully. "Don is mixed up in something like that."

-x-x-x-x-x-

Professor Larry Fleinhardt tapped hesitantly on the doorframe to Charlie's office. "Charles?" He looked at his friend in concern. "Amita says you didn't teach your class today?" Charlie was slumped in a chair, books and papers strewn around him, staring at the floor. "Is there something wrong?" Charlie barely glanced at him before returning his gaze to the tiles. Larry moved toward the desk and sat on its edge. Lowering his head, he tried to catch Charlie's eye. "Charles? What's the matter? I don't think I've ever seen you so depressed."

Charlie finally spoke, although his voice was so quiet as to be barely audible. "He told me not to help him."

"Who did, Charles?" When Charlie remained silent, Larry asked, "Don?"

Nodding, Charlie replied, "We didn't hear from him for a week, Larry. Dad said he was thinking of going back into fugitive recovery, and then when we didn't hear from him…" his voice trailed off and he swallowed hard before continuing. "And then I find out he's under investigation…"

Larry interrupted. "Don? Your brother Don?" When Charlie nodded, he asked "Investigation for what?"

"Tampering with evidence."

Larry moved to another chair and sat down heavily. "I never would have believed it of him."

Charlie exploded. "How can you think that, Larry? Don would never, never do something like that, and you know it!"

Larry paused thoughtfully. "Well," he mused. "It would be akin to the planets on our solar system suddenly developing clockwise orbits." He turned to Charlie. "But why would an investigation be initiated against him if there wasn't rational data to support it?"

"I don't know," Charlie fell back into his chair, turning his head away. "I offered to help him get through it. I offered to look into it."

Larry frowned. "What did he say?"

Charlie shook his head. "It's not what he said, Larry. It's…" he sat up suddenly and looked at his friend. "You should have seen him, Larry. His eyes… he was…" He got up and began pacing. "He looked… I don't know…"

Larry watched his friend circling the room in agitation. After a moment, he ventured, "Frightened?"

Charlie stopped his restless movement. Turning to Larry, he said, "No… more like… petrified."