A/N: Still not my characters, but I do love to play with them! Please remember to leave a review.

Chapter 6

It' In The Bag

A.J. paused, running his hand through his hair, he looked at Rick. "Just what did happen to Laura Dresdan and her baby?" The question lingered in the air for a moment.

Rick leaned against the counter, folding his arms across his chest. "Well, we can't very well ask her. What about Miles?" Taking a quick step to where he had left the bag, Rick dumped most of the contents on to the dining table, slowly sorting through the pile. "Maybe he stumbled on to something that he knew was attached to his dad, but didn't know how it fit."

Watching him for a moment, A.J. grabbed one of the boxes, emptying it on the counter. Both worked in silence for several minutes. Rick pulled out a small piece of yellowed newspaper. "The article mentions the death of her husband, and Detective Mosely and that Laura Dresdan was pregnant." He flipped the small piece of paper over. "That's it." Rick furrowed his brow. "I guess Miles kept it because it mentioned his father."

"Wouldn't you? I mean, if you could hang on to anything that mentioned our father, wouldn't you?" A small pang of emptiness filled A.J.'s chest.

Rick nodded. "Yeah, I would." His voice had softened, as he reached blindly into the bag. Rick slightly turned away, hoping his brother wouldn't see the tears building up in his eyes.

Lt. Brown sank back into his chair, swinging his feet on top of the corner of his desk. Cocking his head, he studied A.J. and Rick. "So, why don't you ask the desk?"

"Because we thought this would be quicker." In growing annoyance Rick blurted it out before he could stop himself. He quickly cleared his throat. "Brown, look, this whole desk thing has us on edge. Now with a cold case, we're digging through papers older than we are, getting notes from a dead woman..." His voice dropped off as he began to wonder if his feeble attempt to apologize would be enough.

Brown set his feet back on the floor. "Yeah, if I had that desk leaving me messages, I would feel a little on edge too." The Lt. Slightly shivered at the thought. "Give me a few days, if we still have any paperwork, it would be buried deep in the basement."

A.J. nodded. "Thanks Brown."

As A.J. drove his vehicle up to his house, he noted an older, well kept Chrysler Imperial sitting next to the curb on the opposite side of the street. The windows were heavily tinted, and they were unable to see the occupant. Rick slowly drew his revolver from his holster, never taking his eyes off of the Imperial. The driver's door slowly pushed open as a slightly bent Miles Mosely exited the vehicle. Placing his hands on either side of his waist, he stretched from side to side, as if trying to straighten himself out.

Rick slightly grinned as he shoved his weapon back into the holster, glancing over at A. J. Nodding, both men exited the Camaro. "Mr. Mosely, what a surprise to see you." A.J. had reached the elderly man first, with a genuine smile.

Miles grinned sheepishly. "Ever since your visit, I haven't been able to stop thinking about my father, or Mrs. Dresdan." He looked at them with earnest. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Rick was about to scoff, but his younger brother gave him a warning look. Andrew smiled again at Miles. "Would you like to come in and have some coffee?"

Mosely hesitated, "Tea, if you have any."

"Well then, tea it is." A.J. led the way to his back door, unlocking it, they stepped into the kitchen area. "Decaf?"

Miles nodded, glancing over at the pile of papers on the table. "Have you had any luck?"

The elder Simon shook his head as he began separating the notes in the pile. "No, just some obscure letters from Mrs. Stephen Dresdan..." He stopped short when A.J. abruptly cleared his throat.

Furrowing his brow, Mosely looked at Rick. "Letters? I don't remember having any Dresdan letters." He looked from brother to brother with questioning eyes.

"Ah, well, no, you didn't" Rick's broken sentence as he looked over towards A.J. for help. Before Andrew could step in with an explanation, the teapot blew a loud whistle, startling all in the kitchen.

"Tea's ready!" Andrew quickly went to the stove and pulled the pot from the heat. Gathering up the mugs, he began preparing the brew. "Tea, Rick?"

A few minutes later, the pile of papers was moved from the table, Rick, A.J. and Miles were sitting quietly sitting around the table alternating between their mugs of tea and cookies. Miles held up his half eaten cookie. "These are good!"

Rick nodded. "Not half bad."

A.J. scoffed, "For one who has already eaten four..."

Rick held up his hands in defense. "Okay, okay, so you can cook."

"Bake." Mosely and A.J. said it simultaneously.

Miles took a sip of tea. "You were mentioning some letters?" A.J. shot Rick a questioning look. Shrugging his shoulders, he drawled, "Several already know, it might help."

Getting up from the chair, A.J. retrieved the letters. Clearing his throat, A.J. said, "Miles, these are letters from Mrs. Dresdan, to us, well, mostly us, one was to your father, but that was by mistake."

The older man looked from one brother to the other, slightly confused. "Mrs. Dresdan passed away years ago, how can these be to you? One to my father? How could she confuse you two with him?" Slowly getting up, A.J. could see that Mosely was quite shaken, he finally blurted out, "You two must think I am daft!" Miles spoke even louder. "What is this, a con game?!"

A.J. was the first to respond, as he dug through the small pile of letters. "Miles, no, this isn't a con." He found the first letter, holding it out to him. "Please, please read this letter."

The slightly red faced man took the letter from the youth, again taking his seat at the table. Opening the envelope, he caught a faint scent of Lilac. He leaned quietly back in his chair, letting his hands drop down to his sides. The letter still clasped in one of them. "Lilac." His voice was faint. "Mrs. Dresdan loved the lilacs."

Rick, who had been silent throughout this exchanged, pushed his hat further back on his head. He felt a chill run down his spine. "Son of a..."

Before he could finish, the phone rang.

More to come! Gosh it feels good to write again!