Chapter 11:

A/N: These characters are so easy to fall in love with.

And I guess I will address this again, as it has come up. Vin and Sam were never a couple. They were friends, good friends, close friends, but my intention was never to imply they were together. I actually don't feel like I ever did. I have considered it, but not sure if they really fit. I have also not decided if I will ship Ezra/Sam or just not pair her with anyone, as I very much enjoy their interactions as is.

As to the Vanessa thing, I actually don't think it's out of character for Ezra at all. He often feels like the one in the group that doesn't belong. His relationships growing up with his mother were very transactional. I could 100% see him having a 'no strings' kind of relationship, or feeling not worthy of real love, and certainly have a hard time being open to it.

Disclaimer: Still own nothing but my plot and my OCs.

-/-

Chris Larabee had to admit, he felt a whole lot more human after a night in his own bed than he had in a while. And with Vin awake and on the mend, he'd actually managed a solid five and a half hours. Damn near a record as of late. He just wanted to stop in to see Vin on his way to the office, and relieve Mary and Inez from their post. Buck and JD would be by a bit later to hang out with Vin, but now that the sharpshooter was awake and no longer in critical condition, there didn't need to be a team member at his bedside 24/7. Though in all likelihood that was still going to happen.

Unfortunately Chris' good mood evaporated almost as soon as he walked through the threshold to Vin's room. Both Mary and Vin looked worried. And Inez was wearing a hole in the floor as she paced back and forth, staring at her phone and muttering in Spanish too fast for Chris to comprehend. "Señor Larabee," Inez rounded on him the moment she saw him. "Something is wrong. Lucia…" she began before quickly falling back into Spanish, a habit Inez only did when she was very upset. Chris looked to Vin and Mary for help.

Mary crossed the room quickly to her friends side, wrapping an arm around the shorter woman's shoulders and giving her a squeeze. "Inez ain't heard from Lucia," Vin explained. Even the sharpshooter sounded concerned, his brow furrowing into a tight V between his eyes. "Inez says she always checks in after a closing shift."

"Always," Inez reiterated. Mary's embrace helped calm her enough to take a few deep breaths. "She texts, in case I am asleep. But she always lets me know she made it home. It's been six hours since we closed, and nothing."

Chris and Vin exchanged a glance. Perfect, they each had the same bad feeling. "Any chance her phone died?" Chris queried, not that he really believed it.

"I called her roommate after I tried her and it went straight to voicemail. Magdalene said she never came home. Her bed was not slept in."

"Boyfriend?" Chris suggested.

"No," Inez shook her head vehemently. "I would know. And she would not go home with someone either. Señor Larabee, something is wrong. I feel it." The bar owner pressed her fist just beneath her sternum.

"Okay, we'll check it out." He whipped out his phone.

"Give me something to do here cowboy, so I can quit feeling as useless as a dress on a pig," Vin implored.

Chris nodded. "Call Buck and JD. Have Buck come here and have JD hoof it to the office." He diverted his attention to Inez. "Was she driving?"

"Yes. Her car. A green Civic. I don't know the plate number." Gray blue eyes flicked towards Vin.

"On it," Vin's face was grim. Please, please let this be a mistake. "Hey Mary, could I borrow your phone?" He had yet to get the phone Ezra had given him connected to his carrier. Mary nodded quickly and handed hers over.

Chris grit his teeth as his call went to voicemail a third time. Damn Ezra and his allergy to any time shy of 9am. He'd call Josiah or Nathan, but they both lived down near Longmont. Ezra was much, much closer. Voicemail number four. With a grumble and a sigh, Chris tried a different tact.

—

Ezra's blissful, peaceful slumber came to a sudden and irritatingly abrupt end when his door swung open with a bang, and every damned light in his room flipped on. His whole body tensed, then he grimaced when the light hit his eyes. He jerked upright. "What the hell Hunter?" He couldn't even bring himself to yell. It was too early.

"Chris called. We got trouble."

"I'm sorry, we?" Too late, Hunter was already gone, speeding through the kitchen. Still half out of it, Ezra reached for the phone on his nightstand. Four missed calls from their estimable leader. The cobwebs fled quickly. Throwing his sheets aside, he padded out into the living room in bare feet, the heel of his palm rubbing sleep out of one eye. "Hunter." Already gone from the kitchen, but he heard his coffee machine whirring. Small but blessed favors. He moved to Hunter's room.

Inside she stood next to her wardrobe, facing away from him, loose sweatpants hanging low below her hips. She was pulling a black tank top over her head. Wide, muscular shoulders tapered into a narrow waist and as she awkwardly tugged the shirt down with her good left hand. It still didn't quite cover the litany of both faint and not so faint scars that crisscrossed her back, right shoulder and arm. "Perhaps you wouldn't mind filling me in?"

She turned to face him, hands scooping her hair into a ponytail. "Lucia may have been abducted last night."

"Shit." Ezra wheeled, trotting back to his own room to go throw on clothes. He emerged only a few minutes later, hastily stuffing his shirt into his pants.

"Chris wants us to head to The Saloon, meet the cops over there and check out the scene." Hunter stood by the door.

"What makes you think you're coming with me?"

Hunter lifted her still casted right arm, from which dangled a reusable shopping bag. "Because I've got the coffee." She held up her good arm. "And your keys."

Scowling, Ezra said, "Fine." It wasn't worth the argument. And if things with Ashley had taught them anything, it was that every moment with this psychopath counted. There'd been no mention of a delivery of any teeth or other body parts. Maybe they actually had the jump on him by a few hours. Maybe those hours would matter. "Let's go."

—

Ezra and Hunter beat the Denver PD to the bar. Ezra parked the Jag on the street across from the bar entrance, but headed around back to the Saloon's small, dedicated lot. The air felt damp, and puddles had yet to burn off in the heat of the day. "Storm here last night," he said. "Of course. Because nothing could happen that would make solving this case easier." Though his apartment building was less than three miles away, he hadn't noticed a storm. Which was not exactly atypical for Colorado.

"Chris started making calls like half an hour ago, you think the police would be here by now," Hunter observed.

"As far as the police are concerned, a twenty-three year old woman left a bar at two in the morning and didn't send a text. Not exactly hard evidence of a crime. I'm sure they've allocated their resources to what they feel are more pressing matters. They'll send a car," Ezra frowned, "eventually." Green eyes made a quick sweep over the parking lot. "So it's up to us to find a reason to entice their sense of immediacy."

The two split, each walking in opposite directions to make a slow, arcing pass of the parking lot. Ezra almost didn't see it. The phone was in a simple, matte black case, face down and partially submerged in a puddle. He crouched to retrieve it. He tried once to turn it on, but hours in the water had put an end to that slim hope. "Phone," he said as he rose, retrieving an evidence bag from his pocket.

"Lucia's?"

"Unclear." Ezra frowned. "But seems likely." There was nothing else, no glass, and any blood wouldn't have made it through the storm. "Damn it. We don't have time to waste. If he did take her, we're already on the clock."

"Inez have security cameras?" Hunter asked.

"She does, but I believe Mr. Larabee is escorting her down to the local precinct to file a report in person. We'll have to wait until they arrive." His frustration mounted.

"Still carry your lock picks?"

"Always. Unfortunately we must wait, as this is not an op I am duty bound to adhere to standard police procedure."

"You are," Hunter grinned, "but I'm not." She held out her hand.

"True," Ezra conceded. "You are a private citizen, and given the nature of the situation, I'm fairly certain Inez would forgive you the breaking and entering." He dug the picks out of his breast pocket and handed them over.

Though it was awkward to work the picks with only the tips of the fingers of her right hand protruding from her cast, Hunter managed to get them through the back door in short order. It wasn't long after that the Saloon's alarms went off. "Perhaps this will inspire a police presence with more haste," the southerner observed.

Hunter shrugged. "Well let's find them some evidence, shall we?"

It only took Hunter a few moments to decipher the workings of Inez's security. The camera's inside the bar ran only during business hours. The exterior cameras ran 24/7, the digital footage saved on an external hard drive automatically for 72 hours before being wiped, unless manually saved. Soon they were zipping through camera footage and one and half times normal speed, Hunter at the computer station, Ezra hovering just over her right shoulder. Technically, so far he hadn't done anything illegal. Plausible deniability was a beautiful thing.

It didn't take long to find Lucia on the reel either. 2:23 AM, twenty three minutes after the Saloon officially closed, she exited the rear door, and headed for her car. It was obvious to them both that Lucia never saw her attacker. Unfortunately, neither did they. Just as he had with Hunter and the video with Ashley, he wore a black mask. His clothes were pedestrian. The sense of dread Ezra had been harboring since he'd heard Lucia was missing swelled in his chest. He had her.

Ezra quickly reached around Hunter and began to pan through the other exterior cameras. "Come on," he growled under his breath, "show me your face." He went back over an hour in the footage. There was no sign.

"Check the video inside the bar," Hunter suggested.

Ezra obliged, pulling up the file that held the interior camera data. Noise suddenly emanated from down the hall, back in the main floor of the Saloon. "Denver PD have arrived," Ezra's tone was droll. "I should probably see to that before they bust in here and do something regrettable."

"Go, go," Hunter waved him off with a flick of her hand. "You go do the Fed thing, I'll keep doing the felon thing." Her eyes never left the screen even as she spoke.

Chris and Inez arrived shortly after the police, which helped cut short the lecture the officer in charge was attempting to give Ezra about procedure. Judging by the look on Ezra's face, Chris figured he'd just saved the Sergeant from a derisive rebuttal from the southerner that would basically amount to, 'you're an idiot.'

At Chris' icy glare, Ezra locked the more sarcastic part of his tongue behind his teeth. "Based on the video he's driving in the direction of Speer Boulevard when he leaves the parking lot. Dark green 2007 Honda Civic, four door. License number BC7-908. Perhaps you will be able to track it via traffic camera. It would be most helpful." Chris almost rolled his eyes. Forget what he said, somehow the undercover agent conveyed his disdain through tone alone. The police Sergeant flushed briefly, but then quickly started barking orders to his men.

Ezra led Chris and Inez back to the bar's office, where the security system was housed. Hunter was waiting. "Found him," she announced. She hit the play button and stood back so the others could get a good look. A man in a dark jacket and black baseball cap approached the bar. Lucia greeted him with a wide smile.

"You're sure?" Chris questioned.

Sam nodded once, tight, clenching her jaw. "It's the way he moves," she said, voice hollow. "It's tattooed on my brain. It's him."

Chris used the mouse to scan forward through the video. The man took a seat at a two person table in the corner of the bar, his face angled toward the bar and away from the camera. He kept his chin drawn down. "Still can't see his face," he growled.

"That video is time stamped at 10:23 Mr. Larabee," Ezra noted. "That means he was here for more than three hours before he abducted Lucia. "With any luck, he looks up at least once."

"Inez, can you send these files to my email? Nathan and Josiah should be getting to the office around now. Ill have them scour through it."

"Si," Inez slid into the chair behind the monitor. "Anything you need." Her fingers flew over the keyboard. "Done. Chris," the bar owner turned, fixing his grey blue eyes with her own chocolate brown. "Tell me the truth. If this is the same man that attacked Sam, injured Vin and killed that girl, what are the chances you find Lucia alive?" Chris' lips thinned and he was quiet for a long moment. It was all the answer Inez needed. She began to cry.

-/-

The courier arrived just after noon, small cardboard box wrapped in a plastic bag in hand. The young man had taken a job on the app Taskrabbit, picked up the plastic wrapped package from a woman waiting outside an apartment building. Undoubtedly, she too had accepted a delivery job on any number of the small job apps that existed. It was certainly a smart way to cover one's tracks. Fake profile, stolen credit card. Easy. Nevertheless Josiah ushered the obviously confused young man into the conference room to ask him a few questions. Chris and the others encircled it.

JD was pale. The small, folded, square of paper had his name on it this time. It was dumb, but he wished Buck were there. The older man always had a steadying effect on him when his nerves rattled too loudly. And damn but they were rattling now. He forced his hand to steady as he plucked the note from the bag. Then he read aloud.

"The laws of men throw disdain in the face of the law of God. Repent your evil ways, but you cannot, because this society had made you blind. This city will be cleansed. This sinner will meet her maker. This is your sin JD Dunne. You have 24 hours before judgement." He set the note down on the table like it might burn him. They all went back to staring at the box.

"Anytime now Mr. Dunne," Ezra prompted. Nathan elbowed the undercover agent in the ribs. JD shot him a dirty look, but he did reach for the box. Nestled in a ring inside was a thick lock of Lucia's hair, complete with the bloody end where the psycho had ripped it from her head. JD pulled it out and recoiled. Beneath it was a silver and jade earring, still attached to an ear. JD blanched. Casey had given those earrings to Lucia when she'd been accepted into DU's business school. Ezra's stomach felt like it might retaliate. Chris let out a string of cursing that would give anyone pause. Nathan picked up the ear, examining it with clinical detachment.

"This was not done with a sharp implement like a scalpel, most likely a serrated blade." He put the ear back in the box. "Which just tells us he has no medical background or," he shrugged, "he just wanted it to hurt more."

"Given what we've seen so far I'd wager on the latter," Ezra supplied. It was not a comforting thought.

"Clock's ticking boys," Chris barked. "Twenty-four hours before we get another video of something none of us want to see. We double down on finding Lucia's car. That's our most solid lead right now. JD, get on the horn with PD, coordinate with them getting a BOLO out on the car. Ezra, hoof it down to the precinct, keep on them about scouring traffic cams. I trust your eyes more than theirs. Josiah, Nathan, Inez sent me the video surveillance files from the Saloon last night. Our guy was in there, Hunter confirmed it. The video we saw didn't show his face, but we didn't dredge through all of it. Get on it." Every member of Team 7 jumped to work. They would save Lucia. They had to.

JD was the last out of the conference room, and Chris stopped him. The young agent looked more than a bit dazed. "I need you clear," he said firmly, though not unkindly.

"Yeah Chris. I just…. Lucia and Casey are real close. You think that's why he targeted her? Why not Casey? Not that I want it to be Casey," he added quickly. "I should tell her. But how do I tell her?" He was rambling, he knew it, but couldn't seem to stop.

"Casey's got a protective detail on her, he'd be hard pressed to get close to her. But this man's head is so twisted who know how he thinks. What's important is we get her back." The Team leader's face was grim. "But JD, if we don't, if this goes south, we need a way to find him, track his signal. That's on you. You good with it? I need a straight answer."

JD's eyes flicked up to Chris', focusing out of their haze. He nodded tightly. "I'm good. I'll get with the PD then I'll start working on attaining a Geofence warrant. But Chris," the younger man warned, "it's not gonna do me much good unless he's using the same IP address. If he's switching it up, or using proxy server or out of country VPN? There's not much we can do in the moment."

"Do your best kid." JD nodded and was gone. Chris stared at his desk phone. Now he had to call the brass upstairs. It was not a thing he was looking forward to.

-/-

"You're gonna make me fat," Vin said, mock scolding Sam, who placed a warm bag on his lap when she got to the hospital later that afternoon. Buck had called, asking her to trade places with him, so he could go offer Inez some support. The bar owner and the ladies man had a sometimes flirtatious, often exasperated relationship, but at the heart of it they were good friends. And given that all Sam had managed the better part of the morning was wearing holes in Ezra's area rugs, she was glad for the distraction.

"It's Los Pepe's," she named their favorite taco truck. "For them you can risk a few pounds. Besides," she sat, digging into her own bag, "crutches make for great cardio. So you'll be fine. Trust me."

Mollified, Vin set aside the sheaf of papers in his hands and dug in. "Oooooh, al pastor." He lifted his eyes over the rim of the bag and grinned. "Did you…?"

Sam handed him a small plastic container. "Not extra, but you can have mine." She made a face. "That stuff's hot enough to burn your face off. I know you love it."

Vin eagerly took the offered container of salsa. Sam was right, it was hot. Made his sinuses sweat. It was great. He poured half the salsa container on one taco. Sam made a face. He took a large bite. Glorious. After the momentary elation that the food provided, Vin quickly sobered. "How's Inez?"

"A mess," Sam sighed. "Kind of waffling between sobbing her eyes out, shots of tequila and smashing glassware. I went back to Ez's when Chris took her to the station. I'm glad Buck went to be with her. She needs it." Sam gestured with her chin at the stack of papers on Vin's bedside table between bites of carnitas. "What are you on?"

Vin grimaced. "Those are the files on guys matching Josiah's profile. Seein' if anything jumps out. Can't do much from this damn hospital bed, but I can read." Slowly, he admitted to himself. His dyslexia did him no favors reading endless reports.

"How many are you going through?"

"Four hundred eighty-six. And that's just the ones with a record. Got a whole other stack of law enforcement files that fit the profile too."

Sam whistled. "Want some help? I'm not doing any good cooped up at Ezra's."

"Won't say no to that." The two finished their tacos in amicable silence before Vin handed her a thick stack of manila folders. Sam set the majority aside, and flipped open the first one. She was gonna need more coffee.

An hour or so later, Sam set the file she'd been reading down in her lap and rubbed her eyes. Teeth gnawed on her lip. She needed to rip off the band aid. No time like the present. "JD's not wrong you know."

"Pardon?"

"You're going to need help when you get out of here. Running errands, PT appointments, your building's a mess. I think I should stay with you a spell once you're out, just till you're more mobile." She said it with an air she hoped was lightness, but avoided the sharpshooters eyes. He knew her too well.

"Uh huh," Vin said dryly.

"I know you like your independence Vin, but you will need help. And I could damn sure stand to be of use."

Vin set down his papers, right hand scratching his chin. "Now this offer," he began, "is it borne of a genuine desire to help me out, or you just looking to put some distance between you and Ez?"

Sam sighed and made herself look at the sharpshooter. "Little bit of column A, little bit column B," she mumbled, sheepish.

"Is it the Vanessa thing?" he asked.

"No, not entirely anyway. Though that does seem to be a thing that's back on again." She couldn't help herself, she scowled. "I did a lot of damage Vin. I hurt him. And me being there is just…" she frowned, face crestfallen, "festering the wound."

"Shock," the sharpshooter grunted.

"Well what the hell does that mean?"

Vin almost had to laugh. "It means you and Ez are real good at being you and Ez, till you ain't."

"That," she chuckled a bit, "does not do anything to clear that up for me."

"Well you talk about festering the wound, but I don't see you scrubbing it clean neither. Cuz that'd hurt. You guys are good at the easy stuff, the jokin', teasin', pushing each other's buttons. You both royally suck at the hard stuff. I mean hell, can't say most of us don't relate. You just gotta figure out if it's worth it for you to drudge through it."

"Why Vin," Sam smiled softly, "that was positively loquacious."

"Yeah, you've definitely been living with Ezra too long. Get back to readin',"

-/-

The late afternoon sun beat mercilessly down on the southern undercover agent, as he waited for the backup Chris had promised him. He'd managed to track Lucia's car via traffic cameras from Speer Blvd, to North Colorado Blvd, before losing it near Commerce City. Which made sense, Commerce City wasn't exactly the most wealthy area of Denver. Cameras that did survive there were few and far between. He'd lost the car somewhere around 56th and Havana. So he'd called Chris and told him he wanted to go do some recon in person. Chris had agreed, but not without insisting he need backup. Considering the fact that a building had come down on him the last time, Ezra didn't figure the team leader was exactly wrong. He was just impatient to get started.

When the silver Audi pulled up a few spaces down from his Jag, Ezra couldn't help it, he stiffened. He'd been expecting, well, anyone else. "Hello Ezra," Vanessa greeted him as she unfurled her long legs from the car. She'd pinned most of her thick, dark hair up off her neck, though a few tendrils escaped. She approached him with a smile and a walk that held the promise of things he'd be better off not thinking of. She leaned in when she got near, but Ezra turned his face so her lips met his cheek, rather than his lips. The move did not seem to do anything to perturb the other agent.

"So what's the play?" she asked. Vanessa moved to lean against Ezra's car, reaching down to unzip her soft, leather ankle boots, turning it upside down. "Sorry, rock," she explained, shaking the boot a few times with her left hand. "Since we're out here playing bloodhound."

Ezra moved around to the trunk of his car, quickly trading his Armani suit coat for a bulletproof vest and an ATF windbreaker. "PD says there's a chop shop a couple blocks from here. Leave the cars here. Walk over."

"Leave the cars here?" Vanessa questioned, eyes roving over the mostly abandoned lot.

Truthfully, Ezra wasn't thrilled about leaving his Jag either, but it was midday, and this lot was next to a modestly busy thoroughfare. "We won't be absent for long," Ezra withdrew a shotgun from the trunk along with the ATF jacket. "Thought we might entice their coopoeration a little," he grinned, his gold cap glinting in the sunlight.

"A show of force with just the two of us?" Vanessa questioned dubiously from the other side of the car.

"No, not force, just… authority." Ezra primed the shotgun before walking back around the car to offer it to Vanessa. She was just putting her phone back in her pocket, and she took the weapon, letting her hand linger over his for a moment. Ezra cleared his throat and smiled. "These after all, are not the droids we're looking for." His silly grin faded when he saw she didn't understand the reference. God the number of times Buck and JD had made him watch those movies. "Nevermind."

The 'auto body' shop was set back from the street, it's perimeter encircled by old, green, corrugated sheet metal fencing. Some of the panels hung askew. Three men in greasy wife beaters and overalls loitered around an aging beater car on a lift in the first garage bay. The second and third were shut tight, odd, for a sweltering July afternoon in a building that had at best, an ancient swamp cooler. The entrance to the lot bottlenecked them, but as soon as they passed through, Ezra and Vanessa split apart, approaching the open garage bay like a pincer. Vanessa held the shotgun readily in two hands. Ezra moved with more casual indifference, though he'd unsnapped the safety strap on his shoulder holster.

"Afternoon gentlemen!" Ezra greeted cordially, palms out.

The three men tensed, one closing his fist on the heavy wrench in his right hand. Ezra took note, but didn't react. The biggest man of the three, large enough to make Josiah look like a waif beside him, crossed his bulky arms as best he could over his chest and spit. The third tamped out his cigarette on a folding card table.

"Can we help you?" the man with the cigarette asked slowly, running his tongue over a set of crooked, yellow teeth set in a sallow face.

"We were hoping to ascertain the whereabouts of a particular vehicle that might have come across your notice this morning. Green, late model civic."

The sallow face man sniffed, "Nope. Don't know about no civic. Now I think you should leave. This here private property." The big man took a large step closer to Ezra. Vanessa raised the shotgun.

"Gentlemen. Gentlemen. There's no need for any kerfuffle. I assure you that the lovely lady and I have absolutely zero interest in your… capitalist ventures? Though it seems the Denver Police Department is a different matter. Would be a shame for my associate and I to bring them down on your heads."

"Can't bring them down if you're not breathing!" The man with the wrench snarled, advancing on the undercover agent. Ezra's gun was in his hand before the man completed his first step, his backup piece out of the concealed holster at the small of his back in his left hand in less than two. He aimed the first gun unwaveringly at the man with the wrench, his backup pointed at the big man in the back.

"I can assure you," Ezra said with the utmost calm, edging on bored, "this scenario does not play out the way you've imagined it in your head." He blinked, and his voice hardened. "Now back up." All three men obliged. "Now, you tell me what I want to know, and we were never here. Don't, and you're looking at a very bad day. Choose, which one of you is ready to die?"

-/-

"That was impressive," Vanessa admitted on their way back to their vehicles. "Stupid and reckless, but impressive."

Ezra had just hung up with Denver PD. The guys at the chop shop had seen a green civic parked over by 51st and Lima. They would rendezvous with the police there. "Time is not a luxury we currently possess," Ezra explained. "Expediency over subtlety, in this particular case. Lucia's life depends on it."

"Well then, expediency over subtlety for the win." She smiled at him, a broad, genuine smile.

A couple of trot steps brought the dark haired agent beside Ezra, her shoulder brushing his. Uncomfortable, Ezra quickened his pace. Vanessa matched. "Saw Ms. Hunter at the hospital," she said cooly. "How is your roommate doing?" She couldn't help the sneer that came with the question.

"Well, she's no longer my roommate, or at least, won't be presently." Ezra answered with a frown. "She's decided Mr. Tanner will be in need of some care when he returns home from the hospital. So she'll be staying with him."

"Oh?"

"Vanessa…" Ezra sighed wearily. "Don't start." The two rounded a corner into the mostly empty lot, the sight of his Jag a relief, a beacon calling for him to escape.

"Ezra," Vanessa began, her fingers brushing his at his side. Twelve more yards. "Ezra I…" she never got to finish the thought. The explosion sent tremors through the ground beneath his feet. As the fireball engulfed the Jag, Ezra instinctively wrapped Vanessa in his arms and drove her to the ground, even as the heat licked over his skin.

/

Chapter 11

Hoping you guys are enjoying this. I know this show is long over, but I absolutely adore these characters. Let me know what you think!