Misconceptions pt. 30
Andrew stood stiffly, watching his agent greet him coldly. John was no idiot, in fact, he was one of the best men in his division. He had arrived with little experience, but that didn't matter because the boy had a gift. He had a talent for seeing things like a puzzle. Evidence turned over in his brain until it fit into a pattern. That was why he has moved up the bureau ladder so quickly, and it was also why he was brought on to serials.
He sighed, remembering how he fought to get McBain recruited to his section. His colleagues had thought him mad for pushing for a newbie, but he wasn't mad. He knew his job and he trusted his gut, and his gut was telling him to nab this kid. So that's what he did, and he rarely regretted it. Sure, John was impulsive. He often flouted the rules to get what he wanted, but it was usually worth the clean up and hassle. It led them to some pretty nasty predators, but this case was very different. It wasn't life threatening, and it wasn't them hunting down a madman. It was a game of cat and mouse.
The Buchanan's were one of the most powerful families in the country, and so the FBI wanted to be in the thick of things. It was good PR, and it would no doubt be rewarding financially as well. But suddenly he wished that he had never sent McBain in on this, because something was going on and he knew it wasn't good. It was obvious that it wasn't good. That made him nervous.
He went and grabbed a chair from the corner of the room and sat beside his man, staring into his waiting blue eyes. He was stoney, and he was guarded. "I'd like to know what the hell is going on here, John?"
He blinked, surprised, and had to use all his will power not to turn and look at his father. He expected outright dismissal, or worse. His heart was pounding a little harder at the realization that his dad wasn't talking. He frowned. "You tell me what this is? I've been doing my job."
Clayton didn't like being lied too. "I was on assignment, McBain. They yanked me to come here and find out what the hell was going on with you?" He stared hard. "We've worked together awhile now. You know me well enough to know that I'll get my answers."
He held the glare head on, because acting guilty wasn't going to help him...and because he didn't feel guilty. He would do whatever it took to help Natalie. "Why don't you ask the Commissioner?" He clenched his fist at his side, angry again. It wasn't smart to put the pressure on the man who caused this mess, but all-be-damned if he would be the only one under suspicion!
Andrew sighed. He looked at the elder McBain, who was uncharacteristically silent. "Still nothing to say?" He saw the man shake his head, and he wanted to pop him one. "Okay," he said, quietly. "Let's look at this logically shall we?" He refocussed on his agent. "You were sent here to work with the LPD and nab an embezzler. The evidence on the case suggests that young Miss. Buchanan is the perp, and she's sitting in the squadroom and waiting to be booked for attempted murder." Nobody moved, and they certainly didn't offer anything up. "Who was the arresting officer?"
Tom leaned forward. "Why does that matter?"
He spun and shot him a demanding glare. "Answer the question."
"Our Chief of Detectives, Michael McBain."
He nodded, staring into John's bright eyes. There was nothing in them, but he would get his truth. He always did. "I listened to the recordings of what went down at the trainyard."
For the first time, John glanced away. He knew what was coming?
"Mind telling me why you weren't the arresting officer? You were there. You called the paramedics."
He turned back, licking his lips. "I was a little busy. There was a man bleeding to death at my feet."
Clayton stood and moved closer to the desk and the commissioner. "You called us, McBain, and you hate the bureau. I find that extremely interesting. Why don't you just say what you called to say so that we can all go home?" He didn't speak. He didn't flinch. Despite the irritation of this situation, he respected what the man was trying to do. He was trying to stand up for his son, which meant that John did something very wrong.
He glanced between the two men slowly. "I will figure this out gentlemen." And he meant it, because his agent wasn't the only one who was good at what he did.
Cameron stood in the hallway of the station, leaning against the wall and watching his partner closely, his friend closely. There was something different with him now, and he already knew what it was. Mike was beginning to believe that the girl was innocent too. He sighed, wishing that he could jump on that bandwagon, but there was no chance of that happening. Not after reading that her fingerprints were on the weapon that put a co-worker in critical condition.
He turned and saw Eve sitting alone on the far side of the room. She looked tired and she looked scared, and that made him angry all over again. Damn, John McBain! His arrival here has done nothing for his family. It's only caused pain and anguish, but at least it would be over soon. This case was rapidly approaching its end, and judging by the worry lines on the young redhead, so was the wayward Fed. He saw Mike finally look in his direction, and he waved him over. Then he slipped into his partner's office for privacy. This was not something that he wanted to have to share with his friend, but he was a cop. It was his job, and hopefully, Mike would understand that.
Michael placed his half-empty water bottle on the tile floor, and stood from his seat.
"What's up?" Natalie asked, trying to rein in her fears, but how could she? John was in trouble because of her.
He smiled softly. "Nothing. I just have to check in with Cam about something?" He paused, noting her haggard appearance. "You gonna be okay here alone for a few?" She nodded, but he wasn't sure that he believed her.
She could see his obvious doubt. "Listen McBain, like I've told your brother, I can handle myself just fine."
He nodded. "Okay." He left her and walked to his office. Something was up? He wasn't sure he could handle anymore surprises today? None of them have ended on a high note.
"Hey," Jason greeted, sitting on the edge of his friend's desk. "What'd I miss?"
Mike frowned. "You called me in here to get caught up?" No, that wasn't it at all. "Just say it, Cam." He felt his heart pick up its pace.
He licked his lips and sighed loudly. "She did it, Mike." He wasn't speaking, he was just staring. Jason held out his hand and offered up the lab report. "She shot that cop and your brother knew. He's covering for her." He would give anything to be elsewhere at this moment.
Michael read the paper slowly, more than once. Finally, he looked into a concerned pair of eyes. "This isn't good."
"No."
He turned his gaze toward the woman who was the cause of all his problems, and he sighed. "This just means that she held the gun, not that she fired it. There was no trace on her skin."
Cameron stood sharply. "Mike!" When he had his undivided attention, he continued. "The only other thing we have to go on is the mystery shoe, and that's not a lot. If she didn't pull the trigger then..." he paused, hating what had to be said, "...the only other person there was John."
"John didn't shoot anyone." He was more sure of that than of anything in his life. His brother was perfectly capable, and it wouldn't be the first man to be at the receiving end of one of his bullets, but he would never shirk the responsibility, not even to save his own skin. If he fired that weapon then they'd already know about it.
He began to pace the space. "There's something not right here, man!"
Jason didn't know what to think, or how to feel? On the one hand, he trusted his friend. They've worked together a lot of years, and McBain was a great cop. He was an honest cop, and he always...until recently, followed procedure to the letter. On the other hand, he had a blind spot where his brother was concerned. John was no innocent, and it sickened him that everyone seemed to dismiss that little tidbit. "What are you saying? Are you asking me to sit on this?"
Michael stopped moving and stared at his friend long and hard. "No," he finally said, noticing the relief in his brown eyes. He was put in an impossible position, but his mind kept flashing back to the last fight they had in this very room. He was the Chief of Police in this city, and despite everything in him telling him otherwise, he couldn't ignore evidence. Michael felt a crushing weight over his chest. He opened his door and went to do his duty.
Eve couldn't take it anymore. She saw an opening so she took it, going over to where Natalie was sitting and ringing her hands together nervously. She sat in the chair that her son had occupied moments ago. "You have no idea what I'd do for either of my sons."
She slowly lifted her head and turned toward the woman who was challenging her. "Oh, I think I have some idea!" She was furious. "Why'd you do it?"
There was so much passion in that plea, that it made her heart pump against her ribs. "We..." she paused, trying to figure out the best way to convey her thoughts, "We made a mistake, but we love him, Natalie! He's only hurting himself, don't you see that, and he's doing it for you."
She lowered her head for a moment, feeling the familiar fear slip back into place. What the hell is happening in that damn room? She felt her anger again, and embraced it. "Your mistake could cost him his job."
Eve blew out a frustrated breath. "On the terrace, I actually thought you'd do what was best for my son, but I should have known better. Now he could lose a lot more than his job, Natalie. He could lose his freedom, and maybe his life if he goes to prison." She watched the young woman process her words. Apparently, they hadn't dawned on her until just now. "You're taking him down with you." She felt desperate. "You're making him ruin his life!"
Natalie listened to her carefully, and felt an overwhelming guilt wash over her. That is, right up until the end. ...you're making him ruin his life... She sat up straight and looked the woman in the eyes, grinning. "Do you even know your son? Nobody makes him do anything. Nobody, for any reason." She wasn't going to take sole responsiblility in the events of today, because his mother was a huge part of the blame. "Maybe instead of trying to be the mother that you could have been, you should listen to him when he talks? Believe in him? I would never hurt John, but you can't say the same, can you Mrs. McBain?"
Eve reacted on instinct, slapping her across the cheek. Her palm vibrated a little. That would sting. She didn't mean to hit the girl, but her words struck a cord. There was too much truth to them, and it was hard to reconcile with what her heart wanted. She simply wanted to protect her son.
Michael interupted the exchange between the two women, but not before witnessing his mother striking Natalie. He grabbed her and hauled her to her feet. "Stay away from my prisoner or I'm going to have you thrown out of this building!" He didn't have the time or inclination to babysit. He watched his mother's anger build to near boiling, but then his phone rang. He grabbed his cell and answered it quickly. "McBain," he greeted, listening to the caller on the other end. He hung up.
His eyes were on Buchanan's. He listened to the tick of the clock, aware of the significance. In one moment, everything changed drastically. He cleared his throat. "Natalie," he said, gruffly.
She swallowed, looking to the closed office door quickly. "What? Is it John?" She couldn't breathe.
Michael dropped his head for a moment. "The cop died." He looked up and could see her sorrow, her fear. "He's dead, Natalie." He nodded to Cameron, who stepped over slowly. "Give me a minute," he said, stalling for just a small sliver of time. He wanted to inform his brother, his father about what had to happen now? They had to book Natalie on murder.
He walked toward the meeting, feeling his insides twisting sharply. Things were going from bad to worse.
Andrew stood from his chair and walked over to the wall. The one with all the awards and citations. He scanned them slowly, thinking about this mess carefully. Thomas McBain was like so many other men that he's worked with over the years. A man who lived for the law, and for his family, but something was causing him to waver between the two and he was going to find out what that something was? "So Tom," he began, keeping his back turned on the two men, "you expect me to believe that you called us to remove your son from a case because things have been strained?" He spun slowly and zeroed in on the older man, who was watching him just as closely. "This is all about everyone being a little uncomfortable?"
He wasn't saying anything, and Clayton nodded slightly. The man was smart. The less he said the better. He turned toward John. "I don't like being played for a fool, McBain."
John sighed. He didn't like this situation either, but it was what it was, and he still had to protect Natalie. "This is a waste of time, Andrew. I have a suspect to find."
He blinked, crossing his arms over his chest. "It shouldn't be to hard to find her John, she's in the squadroom."
He stood, looking his boss in the eye. "No, she's not my suspect."
Clayton grinned. "So now we're getting somewhere?" He looked at the Commissioner. "Is this why you called? Because he doesn't think you've found your man...or woman?"
Tom sucked in a small breath, staring hard. "Yes. He's interfering with my investigation, my town," he stood, "and I don't want either of you here at all!"
Andrew watched him, as he got more and more flushed. "You're lying." He was lying, it was obvious. Tom was not good at being dishonest. He refocussed on his agent. "So tell me? Why do you think she's innocent?" He knew how John worked. He was a bloodhound and he often coloured outside the lines, so to speak, but there was usually a basis for his behaviour. He waited, noting how there was a silence building in the room again.
Clayton frowned. "John?"
He was stuck and he knew it. There was nothing to even hint at her innocence, but innocent she was. "She didn't do it."
"You said that, but I want to know why you believe it?" He was getting that pit in his gut, the one telling him that he just found the answer that he was seeking. The one that always signaled an end to his investigation. He blew out a breath and glanced between both men. "Is this a fucking joke, McBain? You're dragging your heels over a hunch?" He stepped closer, staring into a startling set of blue eyes. They were blazing in challenge. "Or maybe not just a hunch?"
John bit his tongue. He was getting tired of everyone telling him how wrong he was when it came to Natalie, because he wasn't wrong. They weren't wrong, they were very right. "She's being set up, damn it!" He quickly watched his father sink back into his chair. He looked worried.
Andrew thought over the notes of this case. How Buchanan raked the LPD over the coals during a press conference, and filed a report of an unsubstantiated attack? That was convenient at best. It didn't make her look good, that was for sure. He thought about how John was already at the bait shop where the Balsom kid was arrested, and how he found Buchanan at the trainyard all on his own? He certainly seemed to be running circles around the rest of the department by being one step ahead.
John hadn't arrested her at that station. He was busy saving a life, but all he had to do was handcuff the woman until backup arrived. That's not what he did. Lastly, he thought back to about 30 minutes ago when he summoned him into this office. John had been with the girl, and they were standing very close to one another. In fact, he was staring at her pretty intensely before joining them in this meeting. "Tell me that I'm wrong, John?" he said softly, knowing now that he wasn't.
John couldn't do that. He was too tired to keep pretending that Natalie was anything other than a case, because she was a hell of a lot more than that. He swallowed. "She didn't do it," he repeated, hoping to get his message across.
Agent Clayton didn't want to go down this road, not if he didn't have to, so he decided to listen. "Tell me why you think she's being set up?"
He blinked, surprised by the chance that he was being given, but he wasn't going to waste it. It was for Natalie. "The proof is on that damn computer, Andrew. They're tracing a hack right now, and I found the guy who beat her up in that alley. He was paid to do it."
"Anything else?"
John ran a hand through his hair roughly. "Just my hunch," he said, finding the man's probing gaze again.
The door opened, and they all watched Mike step inside and shut the wood softly. He didn't look good. He looked very uncomfortable.
John stepped closer to his brother. "What?" He felt his heart slam in his chest. This was bad, he could feel it.
Michael swallowed, staring into a wide, matching set of blue. "The cop is dead, man. He died twenty minutes ago," he wished that this damn case was over and forgotten, "and there's more." All eyes were still on him, but he stared at John. "The finger prints came back. Hers are on the gun."
He knew that, but had hoped for more time. Things were unravelling fast now, and he sighed loudly. He looked to his boss and felt his stomach drop. His expression was a familiar one. It was all business, and he knew what would be the next thing out of his mouth.
Clayton stared at his agent. "Arrest her for murder."
And there it is! He walked past them to the door. "No, I'm not going to do that."
Andrew pushed down his anger. He didn't like being dismissed. "Do it John."
"No." There was little point to this. She would be arrested anyway, but he couldn't be the one to do it. Not when she was innocent. "I'm the agent on record, and I'm telling you that I'm not ready to make an arrest on this."
He shook his head. "Don't force my hand, McBain. Do your job."
Thomas stood slowly, feeling very shaky about where this conversation was leading. He had to do something? "Michael, arrest Natalie Buchanan for murder." He felt sick.
John grabbed the knob to the door and clutched the metal tightly. He was on his own and that sucked a lot, but it would be worse to arrest her for a crime she didn't commit. He should do it. He should buy the time that he needed to catch the son of a bitch who was ruining her life, but he couldn't go through with it. There was something in him that felt broken, and contributing to her demise was something that he just couldn't be party too. "Last I checked, this was FBI jurisdiction." He glared at his father, who looked as white as a sheet. "I said, no."
Andrew blew out a sharp breath. He was frustrated. "Agent McBain." He waited until he had the undivided attention in the room. "Arrest the suspect, or I'm going to toss you in the cell beside her."
John paused for a moment, and then opened the door. He walked into the squadroom, aware that all eyes were on him. Everyone wanted to know what was going on in the Commissioner's office, but there was only one set of eyes that had his attention, and they were wide.
He looked at her and saw the fear on her perfect face. She was terrified, and it was for him. She was about to be arrested on a murder charge, but there she stood, concerned about his well-being. She was amazing. He bit his lip, listening to the pounding of his beating heart. The decision that he has been pondering was already made. It was made long before he stepped from the room. Everything that has happened with them, between them, has been leading to this moment. He smiled softly, feeling okay with the outcome.
John spun around when Clayton said his name. He stared at his boss and shook his head firmly. He wasn't going to do it.
"John!" Thomas snapped, glancing between the two men. His heart was racing.
John looked at his father. "No, dad."
"Detective McBain," Andrew said clearly, "place Agent McBain in custody immediately." He turned toward the detective sharply, and the young man looked mortified. As though he couldn't quite believe what was happening? He could hardly blame the kid for that. He was being ordered to arrest his own brother. "Do it, or you can drop your badge on your way out the door."
Michael's head was spinning. This isn't happening! He turned to his father with pleading eyes.
Thomas felt ill. He kept his gaze on his oldest boy. "Do it, Michael," he ordered, wanting to shoot Agent Clayton.
Natalie felt as though she was having an outer body experience or something? She stood up when John strolled from the room. He had something big on his mind, because his soul was looking for hers. She stared back, wondering what the hell was going on? Then he turned stubbornly back to the men that followed him from the room. She swallowed, feeling light-headed, and that's when she realized that she was holding her breath.
Arrested? She heard the words, but couldn't accept them. They wouldn't! The other agent was seven feet from her and ordering Michael to place his brother under arrest. And Mike looked about how she felt at this moment. Her heart was pumping too fast, everything...it was all just too fast! "John?" she voiced, quickly. He shot her a warning glance and shook his head fiercely. He was saying, shut up Natalie, and her anger twisted a little.
Natalie stepped closer, frowning openly. What the hell was he doing? She watched him tell his brother in a firm tone that it was okay, as he held out his hands. He was just standing there...offering himself! She saw Mike move over to him looking wide-eyed. He was in pain, but he was still grabbing his handcuffs from his belt. He was clicking a silver bracelet on one wrist. "JOHN!" she shouted, terrified now. He was frowning, but he wasn't looking at her...the coward!
She blinked, pulling herself out of the daze that seemed to have taken hold. For a minute, it was all slow motion, but not anymore. Natalie was across the room in a second and shoving Michael McBain away with tremendous force. She sent him careening backward into the other agent. The one responsible for all of this. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she screamed, shaking a little from the force of her anger. She couldn't believe any of them? Her eyes found Thomas McBain and she walked closer, lifting her bound wrists and smacking him across his face hard. How could he do this to John - to his own son?
"Natalie!" John yelled, irritated that she was putting herself in more jeopardy. "It's okay!"
"Okay?" She spun, glaring at him with as much anger as she had for everyone else in the damn room! "Nothing's okay, you ass!"
Andrew straightened himself out and stared at the Commissioner, the man who was supposed to have control of things in this town. "Maybe someone should control the out-of-control prisoner in your squadroom?" he snapped, wanting to hit something.
"Oh, you haven't seen out-of-control yet, you son of a..."
"Natalie!" John shouted again, much more loudly. When she looked at him he felt himself soften just a bit, despite the rage that was definitely directed at him. She was something else sometimes? He looked to Andrew. "Give me a minute."
He should just haul them both down to lock up and be done with it, but it was his friend and colleague asking for a favor that seemed prudent at the moment. He nodded slowly, allowing John to grab the girl and tug her away from the group that had formed.
"This isn't helping!" he breathed, trying to keep his voice down.
She tore her arm from his hold, staring at him in disbelief. "Letting them arrest you is helpful? What the hell is going on?" She couldn't seem to catch her breath.
He took a minute to gather himself, knowing that they didn't have a lot of time. Andrew was giving him this brief interlude, but then he was going to lock up and there was no stopping it. He reached out and ran a hand down the side of her face slowly. He watched her automatically touch him, but the gentleness was instantly gone when she felt the cold metal that dangled from his wrist. He could see the change in her amazing eyes. "You told me that you trust me, was that a lie?"
She straightened, feeling blindsided by that question. It was obvious that he wanted a very serious answer. He wanted the truth. "Yes damn it, I trust you!" Why the hell couldn't she just catch her breath?
"Then believe me, Natalie. This will be okay. You need to do what I tell you, and keep your mouth shut about what happened at that station." She wasn't saying anything and it was making him incredibly nervous. "Promise me."
"Promise you," she repeated slowly, holding his intense gaze. "You're asking me to leave it be? To let them arrest you when you haven't done anything wrong?"
He frowned. "Well, that's not entirely true now, is it? We both know that I've broken the law a few times since being here." He wanted to kiss her badly, and then he realized that the truth...their truth was finally out. So he lifted his hands and pushed away the hair that fell over her eyes and cheeks. He bent to her slowly, hovering over her lush mouth for what felt like an eternity, and he kissed her. He just did it, and it was wonderful. She was reacting instantly, pushing her tongue against his, and it made him moan softly. She tasted so good, felt so good. It seemed like a lifetime ago when they had been free to touch one another.
John pulled back from her, staring into her waiting eyes. He smiled, panting slightly. ...times up, McBain... He heard Clayton loud and clear, and he saw the panic and anger right back in place. The redhead was furious. "Trust me Natalie," he begged softly.
She tore her eyes from John's long enough to see Michael and Cameron approach them from opposite sides. No! "No!" she squeaked, looking at John again in desperation. He kissed her quickly and slid his fingers into her hair. She felt him grip the locks and place his mouth over her ear.
"Can you hear me?" he asked, in barely a whisper.
She nodded in silence.
"I love you."
Natalie blinked, and stopped trying to hold back the tears that rolled over her cold skin. She stared at him as his brother was finishing what he started, and placing the other cuff over his wrist. Cameron was holding her arm so that she didn't have another freak out, but none of that mattered. She stared at John and saw the truth there. He meant it. He loved her, and she smiled as he was lead down the hallway toward the cell that would house him in the basement.
Natalie took a soothing breath, before yanking from Cameron and walking up to the Agent who was now in charge of her investigation. "We have some things to discuss."
He grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. He could see why this woman got to John so badly, she was...unusual. "About what?"
She frowned, wanting to smack him too. "Cut the crap! You want to know what happened at that trainyard, and I want John released. So let's talk."
He contemplated her request for a long, long time. "The FBI is not prepared to offer a deal at this time."
She sighed, tired. "You want your murderer? Your cop killer?" She could feel every person in the vicinity stiffen and glare her way. "Then let's talk."
He wasn't about to let this opportunity slip past, but he wasn't going to make it easy on her either. A man was dead, and a great agent and friend was arrested. "Commissioner, may we use your office?" He nodded. "Great, then why don't we talk inside?" He watched her stalk toward the office. "I'd like Detectives Cameron and McBain to sit in on this as well." He surpressed the smile as the young lady stopped in the doorframe, clearly shocked. "Commissioner, may I suggest that your wife join us as well. I don't usually conduct interviews with civilians in the room, but since this concerns her son...your son..."
Tom waited for his wife, and they all filed into the tiny space, shutting out the rest of the squadroom. Everyone gathered around Natalie, who was sitting in a wooden chair. She looked worn.
Clayton went to the desk and sat on the edge, facing Miss. Buchanan. He looked right at her. "Well, what was it you wanted to say?"
Natalie had the urge to slap this man again. She took a breath. She needed to do whatever she could to help John, because he was in trouble for helping her. It wasn't right. Her eyes held under the scrutiny of the Fed, and she licked her dry lips. "I killed the cop," she confessed evenly. Her voice was loud and strong and unwavering. There was to be no misunderstanding about what she was saying. "It was me, I shot him."