Rating: PG13/NC-17; Strong language, sexual content and violence

Part 2
July 14, 1999: 8 am
>>>>>>

"You look like shit," Cassy said as she put a cup of french roast coffee down on her partner's desk.

"Gee, your hair smells terrific." Tom looked up from his computer screen long enough to see his partner unload her own cup and put her purse away.

"So what do you got?" she asked.

"Come see," he invited, then waited until she was leaning over his shoulder. "I didn't find anything interesting in our victim's background or our witness. We haven't checked alibis yet, but I wasn't convinced Mr. Blant was our best or only lead. So I dug around a bit."

"You mean like a hunch?" Cassy's breath teased the hair near Tom's ear causing him to shiver. Cassy noticed as she kept her eyes glued to the computer screen.

"Something about this case seemed familiar, sure enough there was another murder at a country club in Palm Springs, California about five years ago. No one was ever arrested. Once they open out there we should contact the investigating officer and see if they had any suspects and if they have any evidence," Tom said, moving over slightly.

"And this case?" Cassy asked.

"Three years ago, Tampa. I called and got a faxed copy of the file," Tom said smugly.

"Bet it was a woman who answered." Cassy leaned on the edge of Tom's desk as she sifted through the papers.

Pressing his lips together Tom refrained from reminding his partner he hated it when she planted herself on the edge of his desk.

"Ah, membership list for the club. We can..."

"Done." Tom held up another sheaf of papers.

"Just how long have you been here?" Cassy's eyes narrowed.

"We also have employee lists," Tom said.

"Not answering huh. So did you find any matches?" she asked.

"St. John, Ryan, my office," Harry barked out.

"Ah, the loving voice of our fearsome leader," Tom said as he followed Cassy.

"You look like shit Ryan," Harry observed.

"We covered that," Cassy said.

"We'll cover it again, later. I've spent the last half hour on the phone with the feds trying to keep jurisdiction on this case. They've agreed that you two are the best candidates." Harry paused dramatically. Tom and Cassy glanced at each other with questioning looks. "You're going undercover," Harry finished.

"Undercover? Where? How?" Cassy asked.

"The Palm Beach Polo and Country Club," Harry said.

"Why? These other murders are years apart and states apart. What makes you think the killer will stay at this club?" Cassy asked.

"No one is going to make a move just yet, not until the investigation dies down. We'll have Reeves and Caine take over the outside investigation while you two go in," Harry said.

"What's our cover? Golf pro and aging jock? Rich widow and bus boy?" Cassy smirked.

"Mr. And Mrs. Ryan, formerly of Palo Alto and seasoned vacationers in Palm Springs," Harry said with a sparkle in his eyes.

"Like, oh my God," Cassy quipped.

"That's the Valley, not the Bay area," Harry said.

"Well, gag me anyway." Cassy shrugged.

"Aging jock, I'll gag you," Tom mumbled under his breath.

>>>>>>

"Oh man, the Grigio Alloy color scheme!" Tom ran his hand over the gleaming red paint on the Ferrari 360 Modena they were borrowing from the fed impound yard.

Cassy let herself smile a bit as she watched her partner gush all over the pretty car. It had been way too long since she had seen him this way. Despite dishing out her expected protests, Cassy agreed with Harry when they were alone that this cover would at least give her the chance to make sure that Tom got some sleep. And maybe bring him back from the dark place he had been stuck in since Virginia. He had done it for her enough times.

"Don't get drool on the paint," Cassy teased.

"I'm driving/" Tom put his hands on hips his and dared her to protest.

"I was just going to call shotgun." Cassy held her hands up.

"Let's go home and pack." Tom, satisfied, turned back to the car.

"Homes, homes and pack so we can go home," Cassy corrected with an expression that was halfway between a grin and a grimace.

"I'll pick you up." Tom waved and hopped into the car and sped off.

"Taking the long way I bet." Cassy smiled indulgently. If this is what it took to make her friend smile like that again she wasn't going to deny him the pleasure.

>>>>>>>

"You'd think they'd spring for a maid with digs like these," Tom grumbled good-naturedly as he helped Cassy clean up the dinner dishes in their temporary abode's spacious kitchen. After the initial awkwardness the team had fallen into a companionable routine by dinner time, with Tom doing most of the cooking and Cassy most of the clean up.

"Yeah, the feds could go undercover with some aprons," Cassy agreed as she dried her hands.

"Voila!" Tom said with satisfaction as he pressed the dishwasher on.

"Masterful." Cassy rolled her eyes dramatically at her partner's antics. "How about we finish narrowing these lists over a glass of wine?"

"I'll get wine, you get the files and we'll meet in the den." Tom smiled at her agreeably.

Cassy's steps were lighter as she set about on her task. Today, she decided, was probably one of the best days she and Tom had enjoyed since before he had met Virginia. Gone was moody, morose Tom and in his place was the old amiable Tom she knew and loved, and had missed terribly. She hoped he stuck around. Trying to be the positive light in their partnership was not an easy task, but it had been necessary. Without that counter-balance she had feared her partner might just up and quit the force. Such thoughts hadn't been far from his mind after being fooled by Virginia's con and doubting his abilities as a cop. The tons of cases they had solved before and since hadn't seemed to convince him. It was only at her and Harry's urging that he hadn't given up yet. That and the fact he didn't want to worry his parents more than he already had.

This case might just be the one to remind Tom what a great cop he was. And a great partner.

"So only Mrs. Brandon Webber, nee Alicia Coen, Bob Jost and Andy Pellen were members of the Chicago club at the time of the first murder and are now members here. John Brandon and Mary List were at Tampa and are now here. Not a big list of suspects, shouldn't take too long to narrow it down," Cassy predicted as she slid the pillow carefully into a dark blue case.

"And we agree the best suspect is the tennis pro, Wayne Taylor, who had left employ at the Chicago club a month before the murder and drops off the map until he is hired by a club in Michigan six months later. Mrs. Blant took lessons with him. So did the Chicago vic. He didn't teach at Tampa, but he was in nearby Clearwater. So, how do you feel about taking some tennis lessons?" Tom asked as he stuffed a pillow haphazardly into a case and shook it straight.

"Fine, but I'm better at golf than you are," Cassy reminded him.

"Too bad we won't get to enjoy this luxury for too long," Tom said confidently as he tossed the pillow onto the freshly made bed and ignoring her usual boast. "You know, if we lived like this we probably wouldn't have gotten divorced."

"Choosing sheets was not our only problem and two beds would have made it all fall apart sooner," Cassy said as she placed the pillow onto the bed and smoothed the sheet.

Tom's eyebrows lifted at the implication, before he felt a twist in his gut as he realized that he was doing it again - bringing up their short-lived marriage. With a sigh he carelessly dropped the blanket back onto the freshly made bed.

"Get to bed Ryan. We have a long, athletic day at the Club ahead of us," Cassy finished with an affected accent, hiding her disappointment the moody Tom was back.

"Night Cass," Tom said quietly.

"Sleep well Ryan," Cassy forced a smile.

"You know," she turned back to him when she reached the door. "If you need anything, to talk or whatever, I'm right down the hall."

"I know, thanks Cass." Tom's dark blue eyes communicated his gratitude.

"Anytime," Cassy whispered to herself as she closed the door behind her with a sad look on her face.

>>>>>>

"I'll never even live this nicely, never mind as a home away from home." Tom rubbed his hands together as they contemplated the sheer richness of the country club in which they would be working in for the next few days.

Cassy didn't comment as she acknowledged her partner's relish with a small smile. She had been raised in places like this. These days she occasionally frequented the local clubs as a guest, but had no desire for permanent membership herself despite her mother's repeated offers to pay for it. The image of Tom and her mother Evelyn drinking martinis by the pool popped into her mind and made her feel ill.

Tom felt his partner shrink closer to his side and one glance at her face told him that she was thinking about his dear ex-mother-in-law. He put his arm around her shoulders comfortingly.

Cassy impatiently batted her tennis racket against her leg as they waited for their assigned host to welcome them and show them around.

"Stop it," Tom whispered under his breath as her fidgeting racket bumped his leg

"Sorry." Cassy smiled apologetically up at her partner, taking note of the light shadows under his eyes, signs of tiredness that she knew were caused by the same sleeplessness that awakened her at three a.m. when she heard him roaming through the house. At one point she could swear he had been in her room watching her sleep, but that might have been a dream?

"Mr. and Mrs. Ryan, welcome. I'm Davis, Davis Johnson. I see you are ready for tennis Mrs. Ryan," the older man who looked like he used to be a movie star.

"Please call me Cassy. Yes, I love the game," Cassy said.

"Well, I'll just show you the highlights and feel free to ask for me if you have any questions later," Davis smiled congenially.

"Your wife is very attractive," a brunette woman, who was not unattractive herself and about the same age as "the Ryans," said to Tom as he sat on the outdoor patio and watched the tennis games in progress.

"Yes, she is," Tom agreed, turning his gaze away from the lesson. "Tom Ryan. My wife is Cassy."

"Meghan Blum. Davis told me I should meet you two. I'm not big on tennis, but Davis says that you both play golf. My boyfriend Andy and I play. We have a great tee time tomorrow morning and our partners canceled last minute if you care to fill in?".

"I'm sure Cassy would love to," Tom agreed.

"Andy Pellen is his name, by the way. He'll be meeting me here for dinner later. If you and your wife are still around I'll introduce you," she said.

"I'm sure we will be. We hear the chef is fantastic," Tom tried to sound sophisticated.

"Yes. It was quite a coup to lure him here from Miami," she agreed. "I'll see you later then."

Tom waved at the departing woman and looked over to catch Cassy's smile of satisfaction as their coup. Meghan was dating one of their prime suspects and Tom knew that the canceling golf partners were Mr. and Mrs. Blant. Meanwhile, Cassy was playing with their tennis pro suspect. Turning from the game, he scanned the crowd looking for the faces that matched the pictures the feds had supplied.

Not seeing anyone yet, he raised his hand to call over a waiter knowing he'd better take advantage of the luxury while he could. Then he'd go check out the work out room and then for a swim with Cass.

>>>>>>

"It has been a long time," Tom remarked as his "glistening" partner joined him outside the workout room.

"I had to make it look like I needed lessons." Cassy scowled as she took Tom's lemonade.

"Sure," Tom smirked as he watched her take a long drag of the citrus drink.

"Ready for a swim?" she asked a minute later.

"Yeah...what, too sore?" Tom asked as Cassy sucked in a breath.

"Over there, coming out of the locker room. That's one of the doctors Brett works with," she explained. "He knows me."

"Oh," Tom's forehead furrowed.

"Let's get out of here." She waved Tom over to block her from view.

"So how did Doc Brett take the news of this assignment anyway?" Tom asked as he quickly walked with her around a corner.

"I haven't exactly told him yet," Cassy admitted.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked.

"Brett was on duty until early this morning. I'll call him later and tell him," she said.

"And how will the Doc react to finding out that you're married to your partner after all?" he asked.

"We're not married and he's a professional. He understands the demands of a career," she corrected him with an arched brow. "What we need to worry about is not blowing our cover. We should have been brother and sister."

"None of the attacks have been on women who were cheating on their brothers," Tom remarked dryly.

"I knew this was a bad idea so close to home," Cassy said.

"Just keep looking sexy in that little skirt and we'll be out of here soon enough." Tom pushed his partner towards the women's locker room. "I'll contact Harry and tell him about the Doc's friends and see what he can do."

"So you think I look sexy, huh?" Cassy called back as she sashayed through the door.

"Oh yeah," Tom whispered as he watched her lithe form disappear into the locker room. Then with a frustrated sigh he decided he might as well take a shower too. A cold one.

>>>>>

"Forget the tennis outfit, just walk around in that." Tom whistled as Cassy walked up to her "husband" in the corridor that led from the locker rooms to the pool. Playing the role to the hilt he clasped his hands around her bare waist and pulled her against him. Ignoring her stiffening posture, he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. He knew his ex-wife hated public displays of affection and he planned to milk the cover for all it was worth. He almost lost control, however, when her arms slid around his neck and her lips opened to let his teasing tongue inside.

Knowing she was challenging him, and they were being watched, he steeled himself to not back down. As he tasted her dewy breath the task became lost in fast rising passion.His hands slid up the soft skin of her back and his fingers tangled in the straps of her blue bikini.
Just as suddenly as she had warmed up, he felt the cool air hitting his body as she pulled away.

"No one is going to believe I'm cheating on you if they see us like that," Cassy said airily as she flipped the towel over her shoulder and turned away. But she didn't turn fast enough for him not to see the blush staining her cheeks.

"Score for Tom Ryan," he said under his breath."Come wifey, let's go swimming," he said loudly as he sped past her.

End Chapter 2