VTCF HEADQUARTERS: NEXT DAY

"John just called, he and Nathan are on their way up," George said stirring a cup of coffee.

"Hopefully they found something more in Boston." Bailey grabbed a bagel from the center of the table and offered half to Grace.

"Mmmm...thanks." Grace smiled tiredly at him.

"Boys keep you up late?"

Grace nodded, suppressing a yawn. "Their new thing is that they need a glass of water every five minutes."

"I remember those days." Sam grinned.

John and Nathan walked over to the table, they each had two boxes in their hand. "Here's everything," Nathan said as they put all four boxes in the center of the table.

Bailey watched John as he went to his chair and sat down. He wasn't himself. He is used to the younger man practically bouncing in every morning, all smiles and talking a mile a minute. "Did everything go okay in Boston John?"

"Sure Bailey, we didn't have any problems. Everyone was very cooperative."

Seeing that he wasn't going to get much from John and not wanting to push him, he turned to Nathan. "Find out anything new?''

Nathan looked over at John, then at Bailey. "Uh...yeah there is something. There were six other murders that Boston P.D. didn't mention."

"What? Why wouldn't they disclose information about six other murders." Bailey asked shaking his head in disgust.

"They chalked them up to mob hits. Seems they all worked for the same man...Patrick O'Doyle."

Sam looked at John, he looked uncomfortable and was tapping his pen nervously. "So maybe these other victims were marks...people who owed..." She didn't want to say his name. "...money or something"

Bailey was watching John also. He felt bad about going on but they did have a case to solve. "You can't get what's owed to you from someone who's dead. It doesn't make sense. And why would you kill six of your own men..."

"I think Sam is right about them being marks...looking at some of these financial records. There's debt, gambling, prostitution..." George scrolled through his computer screen and found that each victim for one reason or the other was financially in the red.

"So we have six men all working for Patrick O'Doyle dead and potentially thirteen dead marks. I say we get a warrant and bring him in for questioning."

"Bailey.."

"It's the most obvious place to start, Sam." He looked at her knowing she was concerned about John. "Nathan get started on that warrant. John, can I speak with you in my office for a moment?"

John didn't answer he just got up and followed Bailey to his office.

"Look, John," Bailey closed the door, went to his desk and sat on the edge of it. "I know this is going to be difficult for you...especially if it turns out your father-"

"It's okay Bailey, I'm fine with it. Believe me, I'm not surprised about anything my father does. I know what he's capable of." John tried to speak as calmly as possible, holding back everything he felt, so Bailey wouldn't take him off the case.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay with this John? It's alright if you're not, I understand."

'No you don't, you couldn't.' He thought to himself. He lied of course. "Yes Bailey, I'm good. I want to be part of this case."

Bailey nodded, but he was still unsure. "Okay then. We'll have Patrick O'Doyle picked up and brought here. He may be more cooperative on our turf."

'Don't count on it.' John said to himself then, grinned halfheartedly. "Sounds like a plan. Can I go now?"

Bailey nodded and watched him leave. "This is going to be a rough one."


Boston: Patrick O'Doyle's Penthouse...same day

Patrick O'Doyle sat at his desk staring at the screen of his laptop. He was going over a list of marks carefully looking for something to pop out at him. Anything to link them to someone else. Looking at the screen was starting to give him a headache so he stood up and went to the window to get some air. He looked out over the city and sighed. "What the hell is going on around here?" He asked aloud, knowing full well he wasn't going to get an answer from the air. He heard a knock at his door and turned to look at the man who entered. He knew from the look on his face the news wasn't good. "What is it, Bobby?"

Robert Gibson sat down in the chair in front of Patrick and turned it to face him. "I just got a call from Boston P.D. they have a warrant for you issued from Atlanta. They want you for questioning...for the murders. Apparently, the case has been turned over to the VCTF. It goes without saying that they at least linked six of the victims to you because they worked for you...they may have found out the others were marks."

Patrick went back to his desk and sat down closing his laptop. "The VCTF, huh? The mayor must be freaking out to involve them." He said easily like Robert just told him the sky was blue.

"Pat, I can stall and try to buy you some time so you can get out of here for a while-"

"No," Patrick interrupted him. "I'll go and talk to them. I have nothing to hide. It's definitely no secret those men worked for me."

"But the others..." Robert said with concern in his voice. "What if they find a way to link you to them. Or in digging for information, they turn up something you did do?"

Patrick grinned at Robert. Genuinely thankful for the man's concern for his well being. The two men had known each other for twenty years. He was one of the few people Patrick trusted completely. He was also a very good lawyer. "I think we'll be alright...and I'll look guilty if I run, don't you think? Besides, maybe they know something we don't. Maybe what they have can help us find the cowardly son-of-a-bitch that's out to get me."

Robert nodded. Patrick had a point. "Okay. I'll call and make the arrangements. We'll leave in an hour. What are you going to tell Jessie?"

"She's with Sal at the tracks. They'll be there all day. I'll call her once we get to Atlanta and we know what the situation is. You'll make arrangements to fly her to Atlanta tomorrow."

Robert nodded and headed towards the door to get started on all the calls he had to make. "What about your son?" He said turning back to face Patrick.

"What about him? I have nothing to worry about where my son is concerned, in turn, he has nothing to worry about from me."

"Okay. I'll get started on the phone calls. I'll meet you downstairs in an hour."


Tbc...