Head notes: So this took a while to write because the website kept deleting my work. Plus, it took a while to figure out how to write the first part. So without further ado, I present Chapter two. Enjoy!

Chapter Two

John had spent the whole night staking-out Monk's apartment. Natalie had stayed until ten and was back before eight the next morning. From what he had observed Monk and Natalie were almost always together. knowing that, he took the opportunity to blue-jack her phone. at least they would have ears on him as long as Natalie was with him. When they were separate... well he would figure that out later.

He heard a beep and tapped his earpiece.

"Miss me already, Finch?" He whispered.

""Have you been able to ascertain a way to spy on Mr. Monk?" Finch asked

"I'm offended you have to ask," John responded."His assistant Natalie is always with him, so I took the liberty of jacking her phone. As long as they're together, we'll have ears on-"

"HELP! HELP!" a male voice yelled over the microphone. A male, terrified voice screaming for help. Something was wrong.

John kicked the car door open and ran inside Monk's building.

"Mr. Reese, what's going on?"

"NATALIE, HELP! ITS GOING TO KILL ME!" Monk screamed.

"Monk's in trouble, Finch," He explained as he rounded the corner to Monk's room.

"Mr. Monk, it's okay, the spider's dead," Natalie suddenly said.Wait, Spider?

John stopped seconds before kicking his way into Monk's apartment.

"It's not dead," Monk insisted. "Spiders never die. They're like zombies. They keep coming back."

John realized that Finch was still demanding to know what was going on.

"False alarm, Finch," he reported, walking away from the apartment. "Turns out., the only thing threatening him in right now is a spider."

"We may have several false alarms like this," Finch said. "the articles about him mention that he has a host of compulsions and phobias. This is the main reason the San Francisco Police Department is reluctant to reinstate him."

"So which one is trying to kill him today?" John asked jokingly.

"The Machine doesn't detect threats from arachnids, Mr. Reese," Finch reminded him.

"We're going to need eyes in his apartment," John said. "If Monk has another panic attack, we can't risk blowing our cover over another spider."

"That's a good point, Mr. Reese," Finch agreed. "I can plant a small camera in his apartment when he leaves."

"Remember Finch, Monk made me in less than five minutes," John reminded him. "we need to be careful."

"I'm quite aware of that, Mr. Reese," Finch said.

XxXxXxXxXx

Natalie made sure to pick up all pieces of the spider with a tissue, put it in a zip-loc bag, put that in another zip-loc bag, and threw that in the garbage dumpster outside. Oh, the things she did for Mr. Monk. If she did not get the whole spider outside and in the trash he would never come back.

They were leaving in a few minutes to talk to Mr. Richards in the hospital. The last thing she wanted was Mr. Monk focusing on the dead spider coming back to life instead of his questions. He might anyway, but at least if the spider was outside she could argue that the spider could never find its way back into his apartment.

"Are you ready to go?" She asked.

"I'm never ready," he answered. But he put on his brown suit and followed her out to her car.

The drive to the hospital was uneventful and they quickly got Mr. Richards' room number.

"Oh good," Mr. Richards said good-naturedly. "I have visitors to take my mind off my predicament."

"How's the knee?" Natalie asked.

"Killing me, thank you for asking," He replied. "May I ask why you are here?"

"Mr. Richards, we have some questions about last night," Monk said.

"Last night? Well, it's not much of a mystery, is it?" He asked. "A mad man broke in to my store and shot up the place. "

"Yeah, Here's the thing, it didn't happen in the store and it wasn't a robbery. It happened in the back room but you wanted it to look like it happened in the store." Monk spoke carefully

The smile on Mr. Richards face slowly disappeared as Mr. Monk's words sunk in.

"What's your question," He asked accusingly.

"What were you doing if you were trying so hard to make it look like a robbery?" Monk asked.

"It was a robbery," Mr. Richards insisted. "Do I need to remind you, I was shot. Are you even trying to find that guy?"

"That was you," Monk said.

"Oh so, I'm the crazed mad man that shot up my own store and then shot myself." Richards said incredulously. "I'm sorry, but have you ever been shot in the knee?"

"No, That's an activity I try to avoid," Monk said, missing the sarcasm in Mr. Richards' voice.

"Well, let me assure you, it's quite painful. A man would have to be crazy to shoot himself, let alone in the knee."

"Or hiding something," Monk put in.

"You know what, I don't have to talk to you," Mr. Richards said. "Get out, both of you."

Monk turned to leave, but stopped just before leaving the room.

"You were doing something illegal, Mr. Richards," He said before stepping outside. "We both know that.."

Natalie followed him out into the hall.

"He's the guy, isn't he," she said.

"Don't be absurd, of course he's not the guy," He said. "But he's involved."

"So you believe him, that it was a third-party," Natalie said. "But then why would he shoot himself?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out," .

They stepped outside the hospital when Mr. Monk suddenly stopped.

"Don't look now but a man has been following us," he said.

Natalie turned around to see what Mr. Monk was talking about.

"I said DON'T look, " he chastised.

Natalie ignored him and looked anyway and noticed a man sitting in a chair. He had dark hair and wore a suit despite the 80-degree weather. To all appearances he was just a casual observer of all the people in the lobby. But on closer observation she noticed that she and Mr. Monk were always in his line of sight.

"He's cute," she commented. Mr. Monk looked at her incredulously. "What? He is.

"Natalie he has a gun," he stated. Natalie looked back at the man in surprise. "I remember seeing him outside my apartment this morning. He had a bulge in his pocket about the size and shape of a handgun. Plus, he is the same height as the man I saw last night."

"Why do you think he's following us?" Natalie asked. "Is he going to try to kill us?"

"I don't know but do you remember the description of the shooter?" Monk asked.

"Tall, dark hair-"

"And a nice suit," Monk interrupted.

"So that means..." Natalie trailed off.

"He's the guy."

XxXxXxXx

A man stood across from the lobby watching Monk. He had on jeans and a dark leather jacket. He wasn't an innocent man anymore. He didn't even have a name. He knew he had to move soon or the contract would be closed and he wouldn't be paid. But he couldn't get any closer to Monk without drawing attention from his new bodyguard. Normally he was up to a challenge, but something told him this man was more than he seemed and that was saying a lot. His phone rang and he put it up to his ear.

"Yeah," he answered, his voice hoarse.

"Is it done yet?" An angry voice demanded.

"The target picked up a tail," he said. "I don't dare do anything to capture his attention."

"Aww, the little hit man is afraid of competition," the man said mockingly.

"Are you accusing me of being a coward?" the hitman demanded dangerously.

"I am paying you to kill Monk," the man repeated. "If you can't handle that, maybe I should hire someone else."

"Rest assured, Monk will be dead by the end of the week. I just have to be more creative," his eyes turned to the blond woman next to Monk.

"I don't care how you do it," the man snapped. "Just get it done."

The hit man stared at the woman. There had to be a way to get to her. And if he could get to her then, by extension, he could get to Monk.

XxXxXxXx

Harold moved around in Mr. Monk's apartment looking for anything that would give any hint as to why Mr. Monk was in danger. The fact that he kept all of his receipts helped to determine his finances. Although his monthly budget was stretching, but he wasn't in debt to anyone dangerous. Nor was he involved in any criminal activity. That was a good thing

He couldn't help but notice how many pictures of Trudy there were. She truly was a beautiful woman, much like Grace. To have lost her in such a way, no wonder Mr. Monk had suffered a meltdown. Harold forced the thought out of his head the moment it surfaced. His fate wasn't quite as unfortunate as Mr. Monk's. All things considered, Harold was the lucky one. At least he could see her every once in a while. Monk never would.

He tapped his earpiece as Mr. Reese called him.

"Well, there's no point in trying to hide from him anymore," John said, disappointment and amazement mingling in his voice. "He already pointed me out to Natalie. And he's practically figured out what happened last night."

"Didn't I warn you that it would be unwise to leave behind such an obvious crime scene?" Harold reminded him.

"How is it going on your end of things?" John asked, changing the subject.

"I've been looking through his receipts to determine his finances. Every month he buys 10 boxes of tissues, 1000 anti-bacterial wipes, and 10 bottles of cleaning supplies."

"I guess you can be too clean," Mr. Reese commented.

"I was able to build a camera small enough to be hidden in almost anything," Finch said. "I'll be out of here as soon as I can find a place to plant it."

"Keep in touch, Harold."

Harold turned away from the pictures and took out the small camera. he took a clock from off the wall and took it apart. he placed the camera inside the face and put it back together. He checked his phone to make sure the camera was syncing with his phone and the room appeared along with him standing over it.. He carefully put the clock back on the wall making sure it was perfectly straight.

With a camera hidden in the clock they would now have a perfect view of anything that happened in the living room, dining room, and kitchen. That done he had accomplished what he had set out to do. He picked everything he had brought with him and headed for the door, making sure to lock it before closing it.

He turned to leave but froze in his tracks as he came face-to-face with a startled Captain Stottlemeyer. The surprise only lasted a moment before the look on the captain's face gave way to a truly terrifying look.

"And just who might you be?"

XxXxXxXx

End notes: So I'm pretty sure the bad guy is obvious. Hopefully not too obvious. but I'm sure someone might be able to guess. Also not sure if the 'hiding a camera in a clock' would actually work, I'm just using my imagination and pretending it could work. I wanted Finch to be able to do something awesome and smart.