Thank you to all who read and review, despite the lack of notifications. I appreciate your loyalty and dedication to the story. Time for a bit of action, and some Morelli…

Ante Up

I sat in the car, unconsciously holding my breath as I waited and watched. Carlos, Tank, and Hector slipped silently into the warehouse, their figures barely visible in the slight glow of the streetlights nearby. Bobby stepped inside after them and stood just inside the door. It was four-thirty in the morning, and Morelli had come back around one AM. He was now asleep, as Manny could see on the monitors back in the Rangeman office. Manny was on an open phone line to me, and I had a microphone to speak to Bobby's and Carlos' earpieces, when needed.

Manny gave me the 'go signal', "Clear to breach," which told me the guys were at the door where Morelli still slept. I relayed this very quietly to the team and took another deep breath. There was no sound from the men's microphones as they had to activate them to speak. Carlos only replied "10-4" in a whisper, then silence.

A few moments later, I heard distant sounds of shouting from the warehouse, not from the microphones but across the street from the building. I braced myself, listening hard as I flashed back to the last time I had sat listening like this, but there were no gunshots this time, thank God. Carlos' deep voice spoke in commanding tones that overruled the whining shout of another voice, obviously Morelli's.

I had to wait a couple more minutes before I could see Morelli being half-carried, half-dragged out of the warehouse door. Morelli's arms were tightly cuffed behind his back; Tank and Hector had firm hold of his arms and were evidently not taking any shit from Morelli. He was wearing sweats and unlaced trainers I assumed the guys had shoved on his feet. He had a dark stubble on his face, his hair was dishevelled, and I could still hear his whining protests. The men were ignoring his rants, but he resisted all the way. He was proclaiming his innocence and his need to track down Carmen Sanchez and the moon-faced man, and I felt a faint trace of satisfaction that I had called it that this is what he was doing. I also felt a faint pang of concern that it had now been nearly six weeks and Carmen had not been seen. Was she alive? If Morelli could not find her in that amount of time, it didn't bode well for her.

As they pulled Morelli over to the rented SUV parked in front of the car I was driving, I opened my door to rush out to check over the men. Morelli's cries of the perils of cops in jail were abruptly cut off as he saw me, then he began to beg me, "Cupcake, talk to these gorillas! I'm trying to clear my name. You know I didn't do it! C'mon Cupcake, let me go, I have to find Carmen!"

I ignored him as I ran my eyes over the men, but they were all unharmed and barely even mussed. I smiled at Carlos, relieved, as he took me into his arms and murmured, "Babe."

"Everything go ok?" I confirmed. He nodded and brushed a kiss across my lips, before turning to bark his order to Tank, Bobby, and Hector in Spanish.

"Ya sabes dónde llevarlo," he said briskly. He received single nods from the three men, and we watched as Tank climbed into the driver's seat of the black SUV, Bobby rode shotgun and Hector sat beside Morelli in the back. Before they pulled out, Bobby turned around to shackle Morelli's legs with the shackles already there for the purpose. Hector's glare told Morelli he'd better not resist, and Hector's hand rested on the knife in the sheath at his waist. Morelli was silent now, glaring and clearly unhappy, but seeming resigned to his fate.

Morelli hadn't been told we were not taking him straight in to the station, and we were not going to tell him. It would be our little surprise. Smirk. As they drove off to the house, which was located on the edge of Bordentown, I wondered if Morelli was worried as he rode with the men. He would know pretty quickly they weren't headed to the TPD, and the men wouldn't answer him if he questioned them. I couldn't muster up much sympathy, though; I still didn't like Morelli.

Carlos handed me a hefty Maglite from his truck and took another before we re-entered the warehouse and made our way quickly up the stairs. We gathered up Morelli's belongings, stuffing them into the duffle bag and went back to Carlos' truck to stow them away. We then walked over to the other warehouse building to check Morelli's van. It was parked way back in the shadows and was locked. Carlos said he would send Hector to pick it up and store it somewhere until we knew what would happen with Morelli.

We went back to Carlos' truck and began to follow the men to the safe house. I could not help yawning in the pre-dawn light, as I settled in the passenger seat, and then fell into a light doze as we drove away.

It had all gone perfectly. Thank God.

I woke up as the car pulled to a stop. When we walked into the safehouse, Morelli was sitting sullenly with Tank in the living room, while Hector and Bobby were making scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee in the kitchen. Carlos sat down with Tank to begin explaining what was happening to Morelli, and I went in to start gathering cutlery and dishes to set the table for breakfast. When we had everything prepared, I helped the men carry out everything and we sat, joined by Tank, Carlos, and Morelli.

We ate quietly, Joe seeming to enjoy a real breakfast; I guessed he had not been able to eat well while on the run. I had put another pot of coffee on while we ate, and I went to grab it after we finished. Tank and Bobby cleared the table, and I refreshed our cups, handed a bottle of water to Carlos, and we all sat back down.

"So, talk," Ranger commanded.

Morelli eyed him for a few moments, before apparently deciding he had very little to lose. "I got a call from Carmen Sanchez that night, about nine thirty. She's a CI, she had given me information on drugs and pushers, and I had made two arrests already from her information, so I had no reason to doubt her when she said she needed to see me. I had heard that she had been seen with Benito Ramirez the night before, so I wondered if it had something to do with him, although it seemed unlikely. He's a rising star in boxing, so I couldn't imagine why he'd get involved in drugs."

Morelli paused to sip his coffee and organise his thoughts, "It was nearly eleven when I got to Carmen's; I had been just about to eat dinner when she called, and I didn't think it would be that urgent. I wish now I had just gone straight away, maybe I could've changed things…" he trailed off for a moment before continuing, "Anyway, I knocked on her door, and when it opened it wasn't Carmen. I didn't see Carmen anywhere, but there were two guys there. I recognised one as Ziggy Kulesca. I had seen him hanging around Stark when I'd been there and heard that he was working for Ramirez. I didn't know the other guy, but he looked like he'd been in one too many fights; had a really round face with a smashed in nose. Like he's beaten up one too many times or something, though he's definitely not built enough to spar with Ramirez."

He took a deep breath, "Before I could say anything, Kulesca pulls a gun from behind his back and says, "It's a pig, he's a cop". I pulled my own gun, on instinct, and when I saw the other guy pulling a gun too, and Kulesca raising his, I acted on instinct and shot in self-defence. My shot penetrated Kulesca's chest and the other guy seemed stunned. He hesitated and I told him to freeze. Before I could do anything more; I was going to call for backup; about a dozen neighbours poured into the corridor and started yelling. One of them, big burly guy, grabbed me around the waist and clocked me with a sixpack, if you can believe. I fell, and I felt woozy for a few minutes. When I regained my senses, the moon-faced guy was nowhere to be seen and neither was Kulesca's gun. Kulesca was bleeding out, and the neighbours were restraining me. When the other cops and EMS arrived, I was taken in for questioning."

Morelli sipped his coffee again and sighed, "I guess my story wasn't all that easy to believe. Carmen was a hooker, and she was a CI, so nobody knew my real connection to her. All the other 'eyewitnesses' didn't see the guns, although two did agree with me that they'd seen the moon-faced guy. But nobody saw when or how he disappeared." Morelli looked up at us, his face cop-blank, "One's dead. One of the eyewitnesses that saw the guy I mean; the big guy who grabbed me. Killed in a hit and run in front of his building about a week ago. No suspects." That did sound suspicious, especially if he was one of the only other people to have seen the other guy. "I don't know about the other eyewitness. It was a woman, an older woman, fifties maybe, lives next door to Carmen. She had kids there with her, probably her grandkids, I guess. I haven't been able to spend time looking for her."

Morelli finished his tale, "I was carrying my personal weapon, not my service, and nobody could find any other guns. So, I don't know if any my fellow officers believed me, although I don't think Mario Sonelli did. And he's got the investigation. Which meant I was basically screwed. If I go to jail, I wouldn't last a day in general pop, and I don't want to spend the next twenty years in solitary. I knew I was risking a lot, but I hoped I could have something better before I missed my court date. I don't want Ma and Grandma to lose their house, but I'm desperate. Unfortunately, everything I find out says there's something big going on, and I can't find Carmen or the moon-faced guy. Believe me, I've looked."

He quieted as we all considered what he had said, and Tank finished quietly translating for Hector. Hector asked a question in Spanish, and Tank said, "Good question," before turning to Morelli. "What do you mean it points to something big going on?"

Morelli frowned, "Carmen was… strange… that night on the phone. Sacred, voice shaky, a bit muffled. It sounded like she was trying to talk quietly, and she had something important, something more than just the names of some pushers for me. I've been watching the Stark Street gym. Ramirez is insane, but he seems like he's just a dumb shit. Violent, but stupid. On the other hand, Jimmy Alpha, Ramirez's manager, is acting pretty shady. He's constantly meeting with people who look like nothing to do with the boxing circuit and look and sound everything like something to do with Jamaican Striker. And there's a lot of stuff on the streets now, high-quality stuff, mostly H."

I must have looked puzzled at that because Carlos murmured to me, "Heroin," while Tank translated for Hector. Morelli continued, "I've been in vice long enough to get a feeling when something big is going down, and this feels big. I dunno if Carmen stumbled on it, or if she was going to tell me something else, but given she's disappeared and so has at least one of the eyewitnesses who actually saw anything, it stinks to me." I thought he was right, it did stink.

Carlos and Tank then questioned Morelli for about fifteen minutes, about the surveillance he had been doing and what he had observed. Then Carlos spoke, "Ok, Hector and I will go pull the cameras out of the warehouse and go back to Stark later today and try to set up more cameras to observe the gym and Alpha's office. We'll also bring the monitors for Stark here, to this house. Tank, you and Steph go and try and find this other eyewitness. See if you can find out what she knows. If she saw anything substantial, see if we can get her to move here to the safe house. Bobby, you're here with Morelli. Morelli, if you want to figure this shit out, you're gonna have to work with us. We'll bring the monitors here and you can watch them with my men. We'll set up a rotation to be here with you, Tank, Hector, Bobby, and Manny; someone will be here with you at all times. They'll be armed. You won't. If you try and escape, we won't be playing nice. We'll bring you in, and we won't be helping you. We'll throw your ass in jail and walk away."

Morelli looked at him, puzzled, "Of course, I'll do anything I can. But why are you willing to help me now, Manoso?" he challenged.

Carlos glanced over at me, "Because Steph thinks you wouldn't throw your life away on something like this. And she's worried about Carmen Sanchez. I've learned to trust her instincts. But I don't trust you," he added.

Morelli threw me a suddenly warm smile, but it turned to a frown as I turned to smile warmly at Carlos. "Gracias," I whispered.

"De nada, Babe," he answered.

I had a sudden thought, "What about the other hookers on Stark Street? Are we still going to try and talk to them? You said you thought they knew something about Carmen."

Carlos hesitated, "Maybe. We can set up the other cameras this afternoon. We want to watch the street as well as the gym, and we'll try and get something near Alpha's office. It sounds like we need to be watching Alpha as well as Ramirez. If Alpha sees you, it's no better than Ramirez seeing you."

I nodded thoughtfully. I looked at Morelli, "Did you talk to anyone else on Stark Street, while you were doing your surveillance?" I asked.

Morelli now had his blank cop face on as he looked at me, "I did before my court date, but like Manoso, I didn't get much. Nobody is willing to talk about Ramirez and I never got a chance to ask anything about Alpha. And nobody's seen Carmen, at least according to what they say. After I was FTA, I had to keep a low profile; changed cars and hid out."

Carlos looked at me, "We'll decide on talking to the hookers tomorrow. For now, we'll concentrate on the cameras and the other eyewitness." I nodded, conceding.

Tank and I re-entered the safehouse sombrely. Our visit to the apartment of the eyewitness had been depressing and a little bit frightening.

We saw Bobby and Manny setting up monitoring equipment in one of the bedrooms. There were two bedrooms in the bungalow. Carlos had selected it carefully, and one of the bedrooms only had some slim, long windows, high up on the wall, that opened upward to a forty-five-degree angle. Nobody but a small child could climb out of, or into, those windows, so they were ideal for housing a witness or suspect like Morelli. The other bedroom was being used as the monitoring office, and there was a single, twin-size bed for Manny to use. The sofa in the lounge was convertible for the other men staying here.

Morelli's door was closed. Manny told us he had taken a shower and gone for a nap. Carlos had called Manny and asked him to bring over the monitors for him and Bobby to set up. Carlos and Hector had stripped the cameras at the warehouse easily, and were now on Stark Street, setting them up. I hoped they would be ok, and not be spotted. We were going to need the intel from Stark Street to solve this; even more so now.

An hour later, Morelli was up and helping Bobby make some sandwiches and salad for lunch. Morelli looked a bit repulsed by the salad. Like me, he seemed to prefer pizza and subs to healthy greens. But I had stocked the house with food I knew Carlos and the men would want to eat. If Morelli wanted takeout, he could buy his own, though he wouldn't be allowed to have it delivered or go and pick it up himself. Beggars can't be choosers after all, especially when they're fugitives. Besides, I had also bought some snacks, granola bars, trail mix, yoghurt, cheese, and crackers. Evil grin.

Carlos and Hector arrived back, and Hector disappeared into the monitor room with his sandwiches to set up for the surveillance, while the rest of us sat own to eat lunch. I had made some lightly sweetened iced tea and thoughtfully put some water bottles out for Carlos and for Hector, who I knew from our lunches together did not like tea. We ate quietly and cleaned up afterward. The bungalow kitchen did not have a dishwasher, so Manny was doing the washing and I handed Morelli a dish towel. He looked at me in disgust, but I just gave him a blank look and walked into the living room. He was going to have to help out here, this was not a free ride for him.

When we had all regathered in the living room, apart from Hector who was still setting up the electronics, I shot Tank a look and he nodded at me. Carlos saw this, of course, and asked, "What's up?"

I sighed, "We couldn't speak to the other eyewitness. Mrs Santiago, her name is. Nobody knows where she is. Her apartment caught fire last night, seems to be a kitchen accident. No bodies found in the apartment, but nobody has seen her or her grandchildren since yesterday. No idea where she is, or why she disappeared. We asked about the other witness, the one killed in the hit and run. His name was Cuzak, but everyone said it was another accident. He was a Vietnam vet, known to get drunk and high a lot, so everyone assumes he stumbled across the road and the driver didn't want to stick around. I guess it's possible, but this seems like a whole lot of coincidence."

The men nodded in agreement. Morelli looked disappointed. I was more worried. Now I was worried about Mrs Santiago and her grandkids, as well as Carmen Sanchez. In looked over at Carlos. "We're running out of leads," I pointed out again, "I still think we need to talk to the hookers and see if they can tell us anything."

Carlos looked resigned, "Give us a day or so to establish everyone's patterns and we'll try and set something up. We don't know what we're going to find or what we'll be able to do with it. If we can get some intel from the surveillance on Alpha or Ramirez, it might not be needed."

I didn't agree but I knew better than to argue. I knew Carlos was only worried about my safety, perhaps with good reason, but I just had a strong feeling I needed to talk to the women on Stark Street.

If any of you are very familiar with the OFTM details, you would know I have changed and tweaked a few to suit my storyline. It's mostly faithful to canon, but I'm trying to tell my own version.

Please continue to review and tell me what you think. I really appreciate the reviews; they motivate me and stimulate the muse!

Spanish translation from Google:

"Ya sabes dónde llevarlo"

You know where to take him.