Disclaimer: I still don't own WaT (wahhh!). I still don't own the characters (double wahhh!), so go pick on somebody else!

Warning of foul language—don't be offended—bad guys often swear.

Thanks Casey08 for your review!!

CHAPTER 2 - Background Check

8.5 hours missing

Martin pulled out three worn file folders, "Two of these are from my White Collar days. This one," Martin opened the top file, "was my first case in Seattle as lead investigator. Charlie Soltay, busted for check fraud and passport forgery. He's currently serving a life sentence, but I used his brother to frame him."

Jack reached over and scanned the file, "And where is the brother now?"

"Don't know just yet," Viv replied, "Rusty's last know address went under ten feet of water when a stream flooded last fall in Western Washington. We should have an answer from the Seattle office by the end of their day."

"This next one almost made me look for a shoe-salesman job. I didn't know people could be so…so…evil to each other," Martin shuddered at the memory of the case. "Ray Ashlem thrived in the underworld. He never got his hands dirty—unless you count the money. He set up such a complicated system of transferring the money from one bank, one state, one country to another that it took us almost three years to get enough info to put him away. But away he went, thanks to his girlfriend."

"You played her?" Danny asked.

"I guess you could call it that," Martin replied, running his fingers though his hair. "I mean, I got her to wear a wire and seduce him, but that was what she did all the time—well the seducing part anyway," he exchanged a quick grin with Danny before becoming serious again.

"This case, from Violent Crimes, has the most potential, I think," Martin flipped open the folder and spun it around so everyone could see the photos. A young woman, bound and gagged to a chair, was dressed in a sequined gown. She was dead. The photo opposite was a prison mug shot. "This was the case that brought me to New York. Leon Towers started in Seattle as a rapist, but when he moved to NYC, he became a murderer. I was asked to work the case because I know one of the victims from Seattle—she was my partner, Shelly Michaels," Martin swallowed hard and continued, "Leon's mother was a Reno show girl. She always wanted to work on Broadway, but never made it out of her hometown. Leon never knew his father; I doubt his mother ever knew who he was. So, I followed him to New York, joined the team here, we built our case and then had to go track him down and bring him in," Martin stopped talking. He could see the interrogation room clearly in his mind.

/Flashback/

"Martin," Paul Williams pulled his attention from the two-way mirror, "I know you only joined our team because you knew how Towers operated, but I think you should be the one to start questioning him."

Martin looked at the older, wiser, more experienced agent, "R-really? I-I mean, you're better at this than I. You know how to get them talking. You kn-"

Paul stopped him with a look, "We didn't get here by me doing all the work myself. You know how he works. You know Shelly," Paul put a hand on the younger agent's shoulder and looked him straight in the eyes, "You can do this. You're not a complete rookie. And," he nodded to the glass, "I'll be right here in case you do screw it up!"

Martin shot his supervisor a quick grin and moved to the door. He squared up his shoulders and began his first solo interrogation of a murderer. "So, Leon, how are you?" Martin inwardly winced at his lame opening.

"How the fuck do you think I'm doin'? I've been here for an hour, nobody's told me jack shit, I'm hungry and I'm chained up like a dog," Leon made the wrist cuffs jangle. "So, whacha want?"

Martin pulled out a pen, clicking it and poising his hand above a pad of paper, "Just the truth," he asked nonchalantly. "Let's start with how did you know Melanie Bates?"

"Melanie who? Sorry, bub, I don't know who you're talkin' about," Leon tipped back in the chair and seemed to make himself more comfortable.

/End flashback/

10 hours missing

Samantha strained to hear what was going on around her behind the dark blindfold. It had been quiet for the last hour or so. She wished something would happen, anything to take her mind off the nagging body parts she couldn't do anything about. Her hands had gone numb a while ago. And there was an itch on her nose that begged to be scratched! She tried to rub her nose on her shoulder, but two of the knives he had thrown earlier prevented her from moving her head to either side.

Suddenly she heard approaching footsteps. He was back and put a heavy box down near her and rummaged around in it. He climbed onto a wooden box and leaned closer—she could smell stale beer on his breath. He spoke in that same harsh whisper, "I'll just pop this new tape into the camera. Won't Martin love to see you again?" A minute or two later she felt the cool swab of something (alcohol? her mind registered a possibility) on her inner arm and a barely audible whisper said, "I know you told me you and Martin are just friends, but are you really?" She felt a needle being inserted into her arm and the dizzying warmth that spread from whatever he had just injected her with.