5.

Mark gathered his pad of notes and the gym bag that held the remnants of his dirty, blood-streaked and burned clothing that he had been wearing the day of the accident. He was released from the hospital after two days with orders to keep his burns and scrapes clean. An admonition to rest was also given, but ignored. "Sorry, doc, there's just too much to do."

Shaking his head in resignation, Dr. Singh said nothing as he handed Mark's release papers to Frank Harper.

"We'll keep an eye on him, doctor," Frank assured the Pakistani physician. "Ready, Mark?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Frank pushed the wheelchair out into the hall, moving toward the elevator. They were escorted by two police officers who had been quietly stationed outside Mark's room.

Mark was oblivious as he considered the calls he had made to so many people. The call to Sarah had been one of the hardest. The older woman insisted on returning to Gull's-Way immediately.

"Sarah, it's too dangerous. I know you want to come here. God knows I want to see you, but I can't let this animal hurt anyone else that I love."

"Mark, I know the dangers. I'm coming on the next bus."

Unable to convince her not to come, they compromised. Sarah would stay with Frank and Claudia Harper.

Hardcastle's aunts were almost as stubborn about wanting to come to Los Angeles for the funeral and to help Mark. They finally agreed to wait until the Lutrin trial was over and it was safe to visit.

"I'm sorry that you'll miss the funeral, Aunt May, Aunt Zora, but I can't take the chance that either one of you could be hurt. Just until this is all settled, okay? Please?"

"Are you certain that we can't help, Mark? My dear, you'll call us if you need anything?"

"I will."

"We're here. Mark, you okay?"

Mark blinked, realizing that they were at Frank's sedan. "Yeah, I'm okay. I was just…thinking. About all there is to do."

"Speaking of which, we need to discuss the type of graveside service." Frank matter-of-factly helped a shaky Mark get into the passenger seat.

"I don't think I understand."

"Well, he's a former police officer, so he could have a police honor guard. As a former Marine, he could have a military guard." Frank released the wheelchair to a waiting hospital aide, striding around the car to slip behind the steering wheel. He waited until their watchdogs were in their own car before driving away.

"I didn't think about that. The Judge was proud of both. Which do I choose, Frank? Is there any way to do both? Somehow combine them?"

"Let me check on that. We might be able to merge the two."

Mark realized that they weren't heading west to Malibu. "Where are we going, Frank?"

"My place. I'm under orders to take you there. Claudia and Sarah want to see you since they weren't allowed to visit you in the hospital."

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

"Believe me, it's not a good idea to do otherwise."

Mark nodded, returning to his thoughts and memories as he stared blindly out the window. Nothing truly seemed real to him. He moved through his days in a fog of pain medication and disbelief.

"Have you talked with Milt's attorney?" Frank asked.

"Yeah, I did. He can't do anything until the death certificate is issued. Same with the funeral home. They also don't have the…the body. I need to speak to Collins, I was told. I can't schedule any services until I have that settled."

"I'll call him, have him meet us at Gull's-Way tomorrow. That work for you?"

"Thanks."

"I don't understand the delay." Frank swung his head around to look over at Mark. "By the way, that was a nice obituary you wrote up for the newspaper."

Mark gave a grudging nod. "It was tough. Didn't want to leave anything out, but Hardcase has done so much in his life."

"That he has." Frank guided the car into his driveway, parking behind Claudia's sporty compact. Their guard found a parking spot within sight of the house and settled in.

"You ready to be fawned over?" Frank asked as he opened his car door.

"I guess so." Mark placed a restraining hand on Frank's arm. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For helping. For being there for me."

"We're friends, Mark. You'd do that, you have done the same for me." He made a slight gesture with his right hand. "Do me a favor, willya? Wait until I get around the car before you get out. The ladies waiting inside will kill me if you take a header."

"I'm not an invalid," Mark protested.

"I know that. But you're also out of a hospital bed for the first time in two days. Humor me."

"Fine, I'll wait." He was a little shaky, not that he'd ever admit it to anyone.

Frank held the passenger door open, keeping it steady so that Mark could use it to support himself while getting to his feet. The younger man stood for a moment, waiting for the dizziness to fade. He walked with stiff dignity, trying to ignore the man moving closely beside him. As Mark and Frank approached the front door, it was pulled wide open, Claudia's slender figure standing there.

"Oh, Mark," she cried before gathering him into her arms, holding him tightly. "I'm so sorry."

"Me, too." Mark closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment to grieve. Taking a shaky breath, he stepped out of her encircling arms.

"Let's take this inside, folks." Frank ushered them through the doorway.

Mark's square jaw tensed visibly at the sight of Sarah Wilkes motionless in the middle of the living room. The black of her dress heightened the translucence of her skin. He face, normally austere, was now warm with concern. The sight of this beloved face was breaking through his emotional wall and he began trembling.

"Mark, come here."

He came closer, looking down at her intensely. "Oh, Sarah, I'm so sorry."

"What for, dear?"

"I didn't save him. I tried, Sarah, I swear I tried!"

She moved forward the last two steps, taking him into her arms. "I know you tried your best, Mark. You always have." Sarah gently moved them both to a nearby couch, her hand rubbing up and down his arm in comfort.

"I knew Lutrin was dangerous. I shouldn't have agreed to go undercover. It's my fault the Judge is dead."

"How could you have known this would happen? You and Judge Hardcastle were in so many dangerous situations in the past and you didn't refuse to help. Was this one so very different? You know Judge Hardcastle wouldn't blame you for any of it. He truly cared for you. It would hurt him to see you doing this to yourself."

"He'd kick my butt for me," Mark choked out.

"Yes, he would."

A raw and primitive grief overwhelmed him, hot tears spilling down his cheeks. Sarah pulled him closer still until his face was buried against her shoulder, his own shaking. By tacit agreement, the Harpers both turned and walked away, disappearing into the kitchen.

Once the storm had passed, Mark pulled back and collapsed against the back of the couch. "I'm, uh, I'm sorry about the waterworks."

"You're exhausted, you're hurting, and you've lost a good friend. You needed the release. But now that you've gotten all that out of your system, what next?" Sarah watched his expression of grief change to hate.

"Now I go after them."

"Dinner is ready, Mark, Sarah." Claudia stood in the door leading to the dining room.

Mark excused himself. "I need to wash off the hospital. I'll be there in a minute." Once in the bathroom, he splashed cold water on his face. He stood over the sink, supporting himself on shaky arms. I can do this. I will do this.

Dinner was a quiet affair, Mark forcing himself to eat the food lovingly prepared by Claudia and Sarah. He couldn't do the same with conversation, but found himself comforted by the familiar voices surrounding him like a warm blanket. He wasn't alone this time.

"Mark?"

Blinking, he looked across the table at Frank, realizing that this wasn't the first time his name had been called. "Sorry, I was…what did you say?"

"It's okay. I just wondered whether you might prefer to stay here tonight. The couch pulls out."

"I appreciate the offer, really."

"But the answer is no?"

"It isn't safe." Mark bit his lip. "I have an idea that I want to go over with you and Collins. Can you come out to the estate tomorrow?"

Frank nodded dubiously. "I don't suppose you'd like to give me a hint now?" When he didn't get an answer, he grumbled. "I didn't think so."

H&McC

"Okay, McCormick, we're both here. What do you want?" Collins stalked past Mark, heading into the den.

"I'm doing better, thanks for asking," Mark said dryly, exchanging glances with an exasperated Harper. "He been like this all morning?"

"Pretty much." Frank walked to his usual chair, sitting back to watch the show.

"Look, Collins, you don't like me. I get that. Can't say I think much of you either. But we're stuck with each other for the time being."

"Maybe."

"There's no maybe involved. You need me and unfortunately I need you." Mark leaned back against the Judge's large wood desk.

"Granted I may need your testimony, although it's worth is debatable."

Mark felt his fists bunching at his sides. "Because I'm an ex-con?"

"Because you're a thief on some fancy parole, yeah. Of course that's a thing of the past now, I imagine."

Mark shrugged matter-of-factly. "I'm sure it will be. But that's not exactly the point here."

"What is?"

"First, I need to know when the Judge's body is being released. And his lawyers need a death certificate to settle his estate. I don't understand what the delay is, Collins."

"In a hurry to get your inheritance? If there is anything?"

Frank cleared his throat. "Take it easy, Bill. That was out of line."

"It's okay, Frank. He can think whatever he wants. I really don't care. I just want to get all this settled so I can move on."

"You're not going anywhere until this trial is over, McCormick."

"Yeah, I get that as well. You've been wanting to move us to a safe house. Once the estate is settled, you can move me to one. Or…"

"Or what?" The FBI agent's eyebrows raised inquiringly.

Frank rose in one fluid motion. "Mark, no."

"Or we go after the men who killed Hardcastle." Mark ignored the police lieutenant. "I assume you still care about the murder of a former jurist?"

"You know who it is?" Collins asked, an edge to his voice at the dig.

"Specifically, no. But Lutrin's gotta be pissed that the contract wasn't completed. He's gonna be lookin' for an explanation." Mark stopped and inhaled a deep breath. "Some careful police work should uncover the connection."

"Okay, but that's not proving anything concrete."

Frank took an abrupt step toward Mark. "You can't do this. I won't let you."

"It's not your call, Frank."

"Damn it, I've already lost one good friend! I have no intentions of losing another."

"Then you'd better help with the plan, 'cause I am going to do it."

"Would someone like to explain what you two are talking about?"

"Look, we find out who Lutrin sicced on us, tying them together. He's gonna want the job finished. So we make it easier to get to me."

"How? Lutrin has to know we'd wrap you up tight after Hardcastle's death."

"Like before? He's no fool, you're right there, but he has his own mindset. And he knows me, or thinks he does. No con is gonna cooperate with the feds, even if he is their star witness. I might testify for you, but I'd never let you lock me up. That would be too much like prison."

"Plus by now he's bound to have heard about how tight you and Milt were," Frank added. "He's got to wonder if you might be after some payback."

"Yeah, so if I refuse to stay under lock and key, seem to be straining at the leash, it won't really surprise him."

Collins drew his lips in thoughtfully. "Could work."

"Will work, if we plan our moves carefully." Mark looked at the other two men. "So let's get started."