Rites of Spring, a hardcastle and mccormick fanfic

Milton Hardcastle made a disdainful face approached the poolside table where Lt. Frank Harper sat waiting. McCormick had joined Harper, which he supposed was to be expected; the kid would use any excuse to get out of work. Unfortunately, his aroma had joined them also, and after hav ing spent the morning spreading fertilizer., It left a lot to be desired.

11For Godsake, McCormick, either go take a bath or sit downwindJ" growled Hardcastle, passing a cup of coffee to Harper.

111 am downwinQ," McCormick returned. "You don't believe it, go stand behind me.11

"He's telling the truth, Milt, 11 affirmed Harper. "Why do you think 1 moved to this side of the tab1e111

11Downwind, upwind, doesn't matter. You stink." Hardcastle tried in effectively to wave off McCormick's air with his hands. 11Go away. 11

"Go away?! I like that! Here I am working my fingers to tt)e bone just so you can have a stupid English garden •cause you liked a picture you saw in a maga•zine, and you tell me to go away •cause I 3'tink."

11 Are you through ?11 Hardcastle smiled. "Yes. 11

11Good. Now, GO AWAY! 11

11Fellas, 11 interrupted Harper, 11far be it from me to jump into these fam ily squabbles, especially on a subject I know so much about: English gar dens ... 11 He paused long enough to give Hardcastle ·a what-are-you-gpnni;I- . come-up-with-next look. 11 ••• but all I need you to do is sign these coupfe of papers that'll wrap up on the Conroy case. That's a11 I need.

Then you can get back to your ... garden. 11

11 I saw that snicker, Frank. 11

"Snicker? Would I snicker? Mark, did you see me snicker?"

"No, but feel free to go ahead," McCormick replied. 11Lord kriows have."

"That's enough out of both of you, 11 warned Hardcastle; affecting an injured air ..11 It's not my fault that neither of you l·how to appreciate the finer things in life. 11

"Huh! 11 grunted McCormick. 11Don1t see you out there helpin' me spread those fifty-pound bags of 1finer things'. 11

"I'm gonna spread you if you don't get outta here and stop polluting my patio. Now git!"

"Will ya give me a chance to sign Frank's papers? I even washed my hands first. See?" He waved a clean hand in the judge's face, laughing as Hardcastle batted it away. "Where do I sign, Frank?" McCormick asked, turning to the friendly lieutenant. 11Better do it fast and make my getaway before the Lone Ranger here decides to plant Tonto among the petunias."

Hardcastle suppressed a grin as he watched the aromatic ex-con skim quickly through the paperwork. With those brown curls blowing around his face and those cornflower blue eyes, McCormick looked like something ex pected to be found in the middle of an English garden. Not that he'd ever admit something like that to the kid, of course ... too conceited about his looks as it was.

"Okay. 11 McCormick shoved the papers in Hardcastle's direction. "The serf has signed. Now, if Lord Hardcastle wants to make his mark, I'll go resume my slave labor. 11

11You're not a slave, McCormick," said Hardcastle, giving his automatic response to McCormick's chronic complaint. He winked at Harper, then add ed, 11Serf sounds good, though. I Iike that. 11

11You would, 11 McCormick snorted as he left to continue his chores. Hardcastle magnanimously ignored the snort. Given McCormick's pen

chant for running off at the mouth, today's complaints had been mild, and besides, he was in the mood to be generous.

"Here ya go, Frank." He handed the completed paperwork to Harper with a satisfied smile. "Signed, sealed and delivered."

"You're looking mighty pleased with yourself today, Milt. Something up? Don't tell me you've started sticking your nose ·into another case alread y."

Hardcastle stretched, enjoying the fee·! of the sun's warmth as he look ed over at Harper's smiling but puzzled face. "I'm not. .. 'sticking my nose• as you put it. .. into anything. I just wanna sit back and relax, take life easy."

"That'll be the day, 11 said Harper in a skeptical tone.

"You'll see, 11 Hardcastle said., then stretched leisurely. "Just gonna kick up my feet and do nothing for at least a couple of weeks. Blame it on spring fever. 11

"Uh-huh. Okay, Lord Hardcastle, just dontt forget to feed and water your serf once in a while. 11

"'Serf', my hind leg. That walking stomach's gonna eat me outta house and home. 11

"I hear ya, 11 laughed Harper as he rose to leave. "Mark did real good on the Conroy case, though, MHt.- I've gotta admit this whole arrangement of yours has worked out a lot better than I ever expected. 11

"He did all right, 11 Hardcastle acknowledged., ignoring the second part of Harper's statement.

"Come on, Milt ... 11

"Okay, okay. He did good. 11

11That's better." Harp-er laughed aloud at Hardcastfe's put upon ex pression. "Sorry, Milt, just can't help trying to drag the words out of you sometimes. I know how much you like that kid even !f you do have him over there slopping around in a pile of manure. 11

"It's fertilizer! 11 Hardcastle corrected, scowling at Harper, 11Gotta

keep him busy doing something, else he'd just lay around on his butt all day listening to that godawful crap on his stereo. 11

"Whatever. Enjoy your 'relaxation', Milt. Bet I could get some good odds on how long it's gonna last. 11

"Don't bother, Frank. 11 Hardcastle grinned as he leaned back in his

chair. "'Cause for once I mean it. Not gonna do a thing but drink beer and watch ball games."

"We'll see," said Harper knowingly. "Later, Milt. 11

"Yeah, much later. 11 Hardcastfe smiled, watching Harper shake his head as he left. Even though he couldn't see his face, he knew the lieutenant was grinning a mile wide and thinking 'no way'. Wel'I, Frank'd be in for

a surprise then, because Milton C. Hardcastle meant exactly what he said.

Maybe it is some kinda spring fever, but by damn, the kid and I do de serve a break. Been workin1 our tails off for months now on one thing or an other. Get this garden planted, then let McCormick flake out, too. Shouldn't have any problem with that; it's his natural state. 'Serf'! Hardcastle chuck led at the choice of word. Damn crazy kid. Could always make him ·laugh, though he still tried to hide it most of the time. Ah, what the hel'I. McCor mick was a good kid, and Frank had been more on target than ·he knew. Mark did mean a lot to him ... and it worked both ways; a fact that had taken him a long time to realize. Yep, things had worked out better than anyone could ever have expected; time to just sit back and enjoy the peace .and quiet for a while.

It was, after all, spring. The air was clear, the sun was warm, and for the moment at least, all was right with the world. What could possibly go wrong in a season so full of promise as this one?

Maria Corazon was careful to keep several cars between her '69 Ford Mustang and the GMC pickup she was following. After waiting all morning in the beaches' public parking area, her eyes glued to the highway, she wasn't about to let those two bastards out of her sight.

Screw the police, and the upcoming jud9e and jury; it was these two who had laid the trap that caught Max. Caught him right in the act of receiv ing the coke shipment. Goddamn them! Now she would never become Mrs.

Max Conroy, and it was all their fault.

She gripped the steering_wheel tightly, feeling her nails dig into her palms. She hadn't felt this uptight in almost a year, not since those first few weeks after she was released from Camaril1o. She'd been scared then, though no one would have known it to loo"k at her. Maria Corazon shows her fear to no one, she thought proudly, tightening her lips into a thin line. But she'd been scared all right. Her record was minor, a little hooking, some shoplifting., but the world didn't exactly open up its arms to former mental patients.

Then Max Conroy had stepped into her life. Make· that whirled in, and life had been one big party from that day on. Oh, he was something else, that Max. Too smart to ever touch the drugs he dea'lt in; ·he1d .made sure she stayed away fron:i them, too. "You don't need 'em, babe,11 he'd laughed. "You're spaced out by nature. 11 Okay, so maybe· she was, what of it? They'd had a good time, a damn fine time, and she wanted,. had

planned on, a lifetime of it. Max had laughed and changed the subject when she talked about getting married, but he hadn't said no, had he] t-:fadn't sent her away, told her to get lost like they usually did. No., given enough

time he would've married her. She wassure of it.

But those two bastards up there in the truck had put an end to it all. Max had mentioned the judge before. Hardcastle. The name had dicked as soon as she read it in the paper. He1d tried to put Max away when he was still on the bench, but he1d failed. They always failed, Max always being one step ahead of them. Until now. He1d walked into their setup as neatly as an unwary fly caught up in a spider's web. And he was just as trapped. There wouldn't be any loopholes this time, no legal technicalities. And it was all Hardcastle1s fault. He was one mean old bastard; Max had said so.

Probably couldn't stand it that Max had go,ttlway from him before, so he'd come after him. It was a vendetta.

Damn him for ruining her plans, wrecking her new life. If Hardcastle believed in vendettas, then by God, she'd show him exactly what that word meant. Him and that 1assistant1 of his; what1d the paper called him? McCor mick? Yeah, Mark McCormick. They1d both been in the phone book, no pro blem there. Different numbers but the same address. Might make it easier, might make it harder; too soon to tel1 yet. Right now she just wanted a good close look at both of them. Shoulda figured they'd live in some fancy beach estate. Couldn't see a thing from outside the drive except a huge house, a GMC pickup and some kind of red sports car; _

She1d thought her eyes were going to cross, waiting for one of them to drive by the public parking where she had waited. The sports car wou1d1ve been easy, but goddamn, it seemed like half of Malibu was driving pickup trucks. She'd nearly pulled out after the wrong one three times. But she hadn1t been wrong this last time. This was the truck she'd seen in the drive way. And if they'd ever stop, she1d get a good look at both of them.

Wait a minute, they were slowing down, turning. Maria smiled tightly as she flicked her turn signal. They were parking at Donovan's Feed & Seed; it was perfect. She cou1d fol1ow inside in a moment, just another customer browsing through the shrubs and flowers. Then she'd get a nice long look

at the two men who had taken her Max away.

"Oh, Hardcastle," she murmured, parking the car, then checking her appearance in the rearview mirror. 11You .. and your assistant, too., 'cause he's just as guilty ... you1re going to regret screwing up my life like this. don't know how I'm going to do it yet, but oh, by God, you are going to re gret it. 11

McCormick stifled a yawn as the judge made his way through the vari ous rows of shrubbery. This was even more boring than the time Hardcastle had let himself get suckered into judging that stupid 1Miss Sixteen' beauty contest. At least then he'd been able to look at legs; twigs and branches, however, just didn't have the same appeal. Christ, Hardcase could come up with the craziest ideas sometimes. There was already enough greenery at Gull's-Way to qualify it as a small forest, but did that matter to the judge?

No! He wanted an English garden like the one in the picture.

McCormick shook his head indulgently at the older man's back. Hard castle was just like an over-age kid when he got his ·mind set on something, Might as well try to change the course of a river. Have about as much luck with one as with the other.

"McCormick. 11 The judge tugged his arm. "Would you come outta your coma and help me pick out some of this stuff?"

"Yeah, okay. Whaddaya want me to pick out'?"

"I don't know. What looks good?"

"Judge, ... none of it looks good to the guy who's gonna have to take care of it. 11

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm killin' you with overwork. What about. .. those things?" Hardcastle pointed vaguely to some flowering pink bushes.

McCormick shrugged. "Yeah, they're okay. What are they?"

111 don't know," Hardcastle growled under his breath. "And will you keep it down1"

He cast the judge a quizzical look, leaned directly into his ear as if to whisper, and asked loudly, "Why?"

Hardcastle brushed at his ear as McCormick, grinning, jumped out of his reach.

"Judge, you don't have any idea what goes in-an English garden;' do

you?" he asked, hard pressed not to laugh.

"Sure, I do. 11 Hardcastle pointed toward an undistinguished looking shrub. "Lots of green plants. And flowers, and stuff like that."

"Hardcase, you're too much. You saw that picture in the magazine, and you've got that picture in your head, but you don't have the slightest idea of what any of the plants were. You wouldn't know a pansy from a be gonia." McCormick beamed at his discovery, unable to keep his laughter from surfacing any longer.

"I figured I'd recognize 'em, McCormick!"

"Shhh! 11 He placed a finger over his lips as he tried to stifle his giggles.·

"You're gettin' a real kick outta this, aren't you, kiddo1"

"No, Judge," McCormick replied, his head nodding affirmatively even as he replied negatively.

'.'Oughta move you outta the gatehouse and into the gardener's trail er, 11 snarled Hardcastle threateningly, "since you are going to be the gard ener."

"Unh-uh, Hardcase. Even you wouldn't be that mean. Nobody's stepped foot in that dump in over two years. 11

"Might be good for you to rough it a bit. You're gettin' too comfort-· able and sure of yourself."

"Forget it. Way that oid trailer's set back in those trees, it's probab ly full of bats, rats, and roaches. You' pissed 'cause you don't kriow what to pick out for your garden. 11

Hardcastle grunted in rep·ly, turned and walked further dpwn the row of shrubbery. McCormick fol1owed. The silence lengthened, and McCormick, looking at Hardcastle's granite features., grew worried. "I mean ... you are kiddin' ... aren't you? You wouldn't really make me move out of the gate- house?" •

Hardcastle threw him a disgusted look. "Of course, I'm not gonna make you move outta the gatehouse. C'mon, hotshot, you oughta know by now when to take me serious and when not to."

McCormick shook his head, giving a sigh of relief. "I didn't really think you meant it. You just 1ooked so fierce for a minute there, I wasn't quite sure. 11

Hardcastle grinned. McCormick around, giving body to help us out here. we need."

"Just keepin' in practice, kiddo." He turned him a slight shove in the back. "Go find some Except for peat moss, I don•t know what'n hell

"Nowyou'recookin'."McCormickgrinned,thendartedoffbefore

Hardcastle could cuff him. Pleased with himself, he turned and almost bumped into a young woman who was looking through a row of hanging baskets. A pologizing hastily, he took off in search of a clerk.

Dark piercing eyes watched until he disappeared down another aisle.

Maria loaded her backpack carefully, doublechecking to be sure she had everything. It had taken two days to gather up all the necessary items; she didn't intend to leave anything behind.

The plan was perfect, flawless, spawned as she'd listened, unnoticed, to the judge and his friend in the nursery An abandoned trailer set back in the woods, they'd said. Obviously I they didn't live in the same house, though she hadn't been terribfy sure what a 'gatehouse' was. Still, the fact that they wouldn't be together all the time would· make it easier.

Her instincts had been right when she'd sfipped from the store and

·gone back to Gull's-Way ·to have a look around. They'd be in the store at least an hour arguing over their stupid plants. Plenty of time to locate that gardener's trailer. The thought of a security system and possible servants

had been intimidating1 but neither had turned out to be a problem. The secur ity system wasn't even turned on, though she'd spotted the cameras immediate ly. Probably only bothered to turn it on at night, she reasoned. Rich bas tards don't think anybody would dare mess around their house during the day. There hadn't been any servants around, either. It was almost too perfect,

she thought; knock on wood. The only hard part had been finding the old trailer. That McCormick guy hadn1t been kidding when he called it a dump. That was okay though,; made it even better in a way.

She zipped the backpack closed, her hands trembling s-lightly with ex citement and anticipation. Laying the pack carefully on the bed ... the bed she'd shared so often with Max... she walked over to the mirror. Studying the reflection, she didn1t bother posing as she often did, taking pride in her still good figure and the long black hair that hadn't yet begun to grey despite her forty years. Yes, the jeans and olive drab tee shirt were perfect for the

inconspicuous look she sought. She went over the plan once more in her mind.

I'll leave the car in public parktng and walk with my backpack until I reach the judge's place. I 'II sneak onto the grounds during the day while the security system's off, slip through the wooded part till I'm safe into the old trailer. Have to watch out for that. McCormick character, can't let him spot me. Then ... then I can put my plan into action. 11 P11 show you a vendetta, old man," she mumbled angrily to tier reflection. "Which one of you will it be first, huh? Who111get the luck of the draw?11

She frowned as her thoughts went back to Max; to the brief phone con versation that morning. His voice had brought p·leasure and pain at the same time. To know he was in jail, and that soon, too soon, the jail would change

to a prison. Hardcastle1s fiault al't of it, everything that was wrong. She'd

promised her man revenge; he hadn't understood, telling her not to do any.,. thing stupid. That was okayI she had decided. Max was just playing it smart as usual. He knew he cou1dn1t speak free1y, no telling who might be listening. Deep down, he understood. He had to understand. She was do.,.. ing it for him. For Max, her love.

She smiled, glad to have the thoughts straightened out in her mind.

She hated getting confused, having dClubts creep in. No time for doubts now, she told herself, pushing the lingering ones firmly back, forcing them away with a brutal finality. Now, she was ready. Ready for that old judge and

his smart aleck friend. Smiling at the thought of what lay ahead, she picked up the backpack and headed for her car.

McCormick wiped the sweat from his forehead, trying to ignore the temptation to bury Hardcastle instead of the new azalea and rhododendron bushes.

"You're diggin' that hole too deep, McCormick." "No, I'm not." •

"Looks too deep to me."

McCormick stopped digging, leaned on the shovel and glared mutely at Hardcastle.

"What?"

11Don't gimme that 'what'. Judge, you're drivin' me crazy. You wan na plant these things, fine, come do it. But stop standing over my shoulder telling me how to do it. 11

11 It's my garden, McCormick."

"Eerrrgh, 11 escaped gritted teeth. "Don't you have anything else to do but play lord of the manor? Thought you were gonna just sit back and re lax today. "

"I am relaxing," Hardcastle snapped.

"You're not relaxing, you don't know how to relax. You're bored out of your gou·rd, and you're drivin' me nuts!"

"All I'm doin' is offerin; advice, McCormick. 11 Hardcastle pointed down ward. "That hole's too deep."

McCormick smiled at a pink flowered azalea bush, knelt down, and spoke to it. "He's not listening. Mind if I talk to you? You're much prettier to look at, and you don't talk back .11

"Very funny, smartass. Okay, so I'm not doin' any good here; you already know everything. 11

"He's catching on." McCormick continued to address the azalea, "Would you stop talking to that goddamn plant while I'm standing here!

Look like an idiot. 11

"You, me, or the plant?" McCormick grinned, lo0king up.

11 All three of us, probably, 11 the judge admitted. 11 And you're right for once in your miserable life. I am pored. Watching you dig holes is not the most exciting way to spend a day, ya know. "

"Never said it was. Judge... " McCormick stood, shaking his head at the disgruntled older man. "... why don't you just face it. You're not cut out to be the country squire, smiling benevolently at the peasants while you sit a round and watch the grass grow. Go see Frank, or Bil'I Giles, or some of yot,1r other o·ld friends while I finish up here. T·hen tonight, maybe we can go to a ballgame or something, start figuring out what we wanna work on next."

"We're supposed to be relaxing, 11 said Hardcastle obstinately.

"We've relaxed, if you can call it that, for almost a week, and you're about ready to climb wal1s. Gotta get you back in the harness, Har-dc se,I so you can rest up from a'II this rest. 11

"Ya know, you can be a real pain in the butt, kiddo. 11

McCormick smiled, picking up on the humorous resignation in the judge's voice.

"Especially when yo4're right, 11 Hardcastle continued.

"Don't worry about it, Judge., 11 he offered generously; ''I can be a pain in the butt when I'm wrong, too."

"Oh, now, that's a real news flash," drawled Hardcastle, strollina off, then breaking into a smile. 111111be back by dinner time. Think I'll go r'attle Frank's cage for a while, see what he's been up to."

"Bring back a pizza?" McCormick asked, grinning and savoring his victory. He laughed as the judge walked on, muttering an unintelligible .but distinctly obscene sounding reply. "Yep, you are definitely too much, Hard case," he chuckled to himself, leaning again on the shovel as he watched Hardcastle climb into the pickup. "And no anchovies! 11 he yel"led.

"You just plant those bushes and stop worrying about feeding your face!" Hardcastle yelled back.

"Yes sir!" He saluted. "Seig Heil!"

"Go to hell, 11 Hardcastle laughed, starting down the drive.

"Not on an empty stomach, 11 McCormick yelled after the exiting vehicle. Chuckling again, he reached for the pink azalea. After planting it carefully, packing the soil around its roots, McCormick stood back to look at his work.

A sudden sharp click sounded directly behind him, and he froze, recognizing at once the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

"Lady, are you crazy or what ?11 McCormick asked in confusion as he tried to figure out what was going on.

"Maybe. 11 She smiled coldly back at him, caressing his cheek with the blue steel . 38. "Guess it depends on your point of view. 11

McCormick absorbed the bizarre statement as he looked around the cramped quarters of the gardener's trailer.

The ominous sounding 'click' in the garden had presaged the unusual pattern of events that had foll9wed, and now, as he sat tightly bound in a straight wooden chair, he knew instinctively the answer to the question he had asked. This woman, whoever she was... this woman with the strange hard glitter in her eyes, was not a-ftogether sane.

"Look ... " He tried a different approach. " .. I don't know who you are or how you got here. And I sure as hell don't know why you'd want to do something like this." •

"Maybe I enjoy it," she said, sitting down cross-legged on the ftoor and pulling an apple from her backpack.

·"You enjoy it? Lady, I don't know you from Adam. You show up be hind me with a gun, you march me down here to this trailer, and truss me up Uke a,Christmas turkey ... and you've got no reason except 'maybe you enjoy it'!?''

"Never said there wasn't a reason, 11 she replied calmly, crunching in- to the apple.

"Don't you think I deserve to know what that reason is?" "No. Not yet, anyway."

McCormick stared at her, baffled. Her calm, matter-of-fact tone was adding to the eeriness of the situation rather than 1essening it.

"You haven't suffered yet, you see," she added, as though that somehow explained things.

"Suffered?" He twisted his head around. "Why do I get the feelin' that I don't wanna know what you mean by that?"

"Oh, come on, Mark." She looked up at him with a feral grin. "You don't mind if I call you Mark? The game's just begun. 11

He pounced on the first clue she had given himJ smaH though it was. "How'd you know my name?"

"Interrogation, Mr. McCormick? You're hardly in a position for it.

Have to speak to the judge about you, 11 she added cattily.

"Whaddaya mean, speak to the judge? Do you know Ha-" He pur posely halted before he spoke the judge's name, testing her.

"Hardcastle? Oh, yes, Mark, I know the judge as well as I know you, 11

"But you don't know me! 11 He gulped as he saw her grip on the . 38 tighten at his raised voice. 11 I only meant, 11 he went on hurriedly, "that I don't know you, so how can you know me? 11

"Who really knows anyone?"

"Lady, 11 he sighed, 11 I don't wanna sit here and talk semantics. I'm just trying to figure out what the heH1s going on. 11

"Are you thirsty?" She scrounged in the backpack, coming up with a canteen.,.

"Lady ... 11

"Not thirsty, then?" "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

"All right. Just a little. 11 She held ·t'he canteen to his mouth, allowed one swallow, then pulled it away. "That's enough. 11

McCormick watched quietly as she sat back down, put·ling the backpack close against her side. "Lady, uh, Miss'? It looks like you're planning on staying here awhile."

"You're fishing again, Mark., and I'm starting to get tired of it.11 McCormick clenched his teeth, the barely controlled hostility of her

voice making him bite back all the things he wanted to say. Too soon to tell how far this woman could be pushed, and he sure wasn't abput to light her fuse at this point. If only he could get some idea of what she was planning. Hardcastle would be home soon; there was no doubt she was aware of it, and he didn't want to imagine what might happen then.

"Come and get it, kiddo, 11 Hardcastle yelled as he entered the kitchen carrying a large pizza. "McCormick!" he shouted again. "Chow down!"

Getting no response, he walked into the den, then sighed impatiently as he looked around the quiet, empty room. Thought for sure he'd be sprawl

ed out on the couch by now, watching my TV. Probably in the gatehouse with

a headset growin' out of his ears. Wouldn't hear me yelling if I was stan •

right in his face. Gonna scramble what's left of his brain listenin' to that stuff.

Hardcastle started back outside., grumbling every step of the way. He realized, even as he did s0, hat most of it was put on. It was always fun to sneak up unexpectedly on McCormick; see how many feet in the air the kid'd jump when he was tapped on the back. Jumped real good when he was startled, did ol' McCormick, thought Hardcastle fondly, wondering if there were a Guinness record for such things.

"Not that I'm onna have a chance to find out.,11 he muttered a moment later as he glanced around the gatehouse. After searching the small area, he frowred in puzzlement. Car's still here, and there wasn't a note on the refrig erator sayin' he'd gone off with somebody. He can't sHII be workin' on that garden. He checked his watch, verifying that he'd been gone for almost five hours. No way McCormick'd work that long. Unless he took about a three-hour nap in the middle of it. The judge smirked as he nodded his head. Now that sounds like the McCormick version of slave labor: a few hours work., inter spersed with long naps and 'buy me a pizza1•

11 I'll plant you among the petunias, all right," he grumped as he walked

t_oward the side of the house where the new garden was being lain out. "Plant you head first. Nothin' be show in' but your dirty sneakers kickin' around in the air.11 He stopped suddenly, startled at the sight that greet- d him. The azaleas and rhododendrons sat, lined up in their pots, waiting to be planted, while McCormick's shovel lay on the ground beside the one freshly planted bush. The same bush, Hardcastle realized, that they had

been bickering over. Nothing had been done since he'd left-five hours ago.

Gnawing at his bottom lip, he considered the possibilities. McCormick wouldn't just walk off and leave things like this unless something had hap pened. He kneeled and searched the ground quickly, looking for any evi dence of blood. The kid could1ve cut himself on some of the gardening tools.

Not finding anything, he shook his head in annoyance. No, that didn1t make any sense either, he thought. If he1d hurt himself, he wouldtve either driven to the hospital or e·lse made a mess getting to a phone to call someone for help. So where was he?

Hardcastle st9od and turned in a slow circle, his eyes searching the grounds in the swiftly dimming light of sunset. PL!zzlement soon turned to worry. This wasn't like McCormick at all. Where the hell is he.?!

McCormick tensed when he heard Hardcastle's voice in the distance calling his name.

"Not a sound," warned his captor. Kneeling in front of him, their eyes locked, and she jammed the gun barrel uncomfortably into his stomach. "He'll never think to come down here unless you call out, and you don1t want to do that. 11

McCormick glared at her, unable to control his expression. He could feel his heart pounding, and unable to stop it, he trembled, more in anger than in fear. She felt 1ihe tremble, too, he could tell by the gloating expres sion on her face, and sudden'ly, he 1oathed this woman. There was some thing about her that made his skin crawl, and he fought to control his revul sion.

Hardcastle's voice drifted away, and he watched her lips curi into a slow, sadistic smile.

"Very good, Mark. 11 She settled down beside her backpack, folding her arms .and continuing- to smile up at him. "We wouldn't want t'he game to end this soon, now would we?" .

McCormick's glare didn't waver. His anger at the fee'! of a gun bar- rel pressed into his gut had made him decide he didn't want to wait around and see how this woman could be pushed. "You want games, lady? If I ever. get out of this chair, /11/·give you games," he threatened.

"Oooh." Her mouth dropped open in obvious faked amazement. "So the cat does have claws. I was beginning to wonder."

McCormick cocked his head to one side. "Would you really have shot me if I'd yelled for the judge ?11

"Of course."

"The noise would've brought him straight here. 11

"That's right."

"And ... then you'd have shot him, too."

She favored him with a brief, harsh laugh. "You never stop fishing, do you, Mark? Well, I'll let you land this one. Why not? Yes, I would've shot him. Wouldn't take much p1easure in it yet, but yes, I would1ve shot him. 11

McCormick took a deep breath, the fear he'd been trying to keep in check now confirmed. It was both of them she wanted, for whatever her rea sons. "What do you mean, 'yet'?"

She stared at him, face blank.

"You said you wouldn't take much pleasure in it. .. yet."

11 I al ready explained that .11 "You did?"

"He has to suffer, too," she said deviously. "Did you t ink I only, .. meant you? Why on earth would you think that?"

McCormick shook his head. This has to be a bad dream. She's talking In riddlesJ looking at me as if I were some kind of imbecile for not understcmd ing. Hoping for an answer he could halfway comprehend, he asked, "Why do you want us to suffer?" .

"Because I'm . Because you've made me suffer." "Me ... ?" He hesitated, totally confused. "Lady-"

"-Maria!" she snapped. "Stop calling me lady. I don't like it. My name's Maria."

"All right." He searched his memory for anyone named Maria but drew a blank. Maybe Hardcastle? "Al1 right ... Maria. If. .. you're suffering, I'm sorry. But unless you tell me what this is alt about, then I can't do anything. I don't like people to suffer, Maria. I've never purposely made anyone suffer in my life. Tell me what you think it is that I ... that the judge and I ... have done to you . 11 •

"No."

"No? That's it? Just 'no'?"

"Anybody ever tell you you talk too much?" she snapped. "Everybody," he admitted.

"Well, not this time. Now you just shut up, or I'm .gonna have to gag you. Understand?"

"Yeah. 11 He squirmed,uncomfortable in the tight bonds. His stomach growled again, making its hunger known, and to his dismay, another bodily function made its presence felt. Shifting in the chair, he chastised himself for drinking two beers earlier that day.

"What's the matter? Why1re you so squirmy all of a sudden?"

He looked down at her, fighting the embarrassment. "If you must know, lady-excuse me, Maria, I gotta pee " .

She laughed, seeming to know how the sound grated on his nerves. "Okay, I can live with that, even thought of it already; that s why your hands are tied in front. Now, you listen to me real careful. I'm gonna untie you from this chair, but-11 She pulled from ·tier seemingly bottomless back. pack· a cord looped in a hangman's knot. "-this is going around your neck with me and the gun at the other end. And your feet are staying hobbled, so I'd advise you not to trip. Got it? You can find the bathroom?11 she added sarcasticallyI nodding toward its open door less than six feet from where they sat. .

11 I don't think Pit get lost, 11 he muttered, furious at the upcoming humiliation. "I guess I'd be wasting my breath to ask if I could close the door?"

"Don't get cute, Mark."

."I'm not getting 'cute'. flm asking for a little privacy, Where the hell do you think I'd be going in a three-by-three-foot bathroom?!"

She shook her head. 11Forget it. Just be grateful I'm letting you go at all. And by the way, don't think I'm doing it out of concern for yo·ur

,. ..,

comfort. don't want to have to sit here and smell you."

Seething, McCormick clenched his jaws as she slipped the noose around his neck. This bitch., whatever her problem is., must get her kicks out of hu miliation and suffering. There has to be a way to find out what she's got planned ... before Hardcastle walks into her trap like I did.

"I want you to put out an APB, Frank."

Hardcastle's voice was quiet, but he knew Harper was picking up on the underlying fear in the softly spoken words. At this point, he didn't much care.

"Okay, Milt. Just let me be sure I've got this straight. You left Mc Cormick working in that fool garden of yours yesterday afternoon when you came over here ... and you haven't seen him since, even though his car's still at the house. II

"Right. 11 Hardcastle frowned at the lieutenant's hesitation. "What's the problem?"

"Milt... don't you think it's just possible he could've gone off with an old girlfriend? Something like that? If you were bored just mucking around the house, then you know he sure as hell was."

"Come off it, Frank! 11 Hardcastle's fist landed on Harper's desk with the force of a pounding hammer. "You've known McCormick now for what, two years? So you know he pulls a lot of shit, as much as he can get away with, but not something like this."

"You can't be sure of that, Milt!" Harper's voice rose in volume to match Hardcastle's. "He hasn't been gone twenty-four hours. Look-11 He

walked around his desk and laid a hand on Hardcastle's shoulder., "-I'm not saying I won't put out the APB if that's what you really want; I'm just asking you to think about it for a minute. It coulda been an old girlfriend who came by, or an old buddy with some kind of sob story. You know Mc Cormick's a sucker for stuff like that."

11 I know that, Frank, 11 Hardcastle said, pulling in the reins on his temper. "But give me a little credit, will ya? If McCormick ·had gone off with somebody ... of his own free wilt .. he would've ca'lled me by now. Heid know I'd be worried. 11 .

Harper studied him· for a moment.· "You already checked the hospitals?11 "Yeah. Nothing.11

"City jail?"

"I've checked I Frank. 11

"Okay, then." Harper nodded. "You better stick around the house so we can get in touch with you. There haven't been any phone calls1 Threats? Anything to indicate a kidnapping, something like that?"

0Nah. It crossed my mind; though why the hel1 anybody would wanna kidnap McCormick is beyond me. But there haven't been any calls. Hasn1t been anything. He's just ... gone. 11

Harper leaned on his desk, eyes cast down on piles of paperwork .. "Then I'm guessing revenge has crossed your mind., too. Both of you ·have made a lot of enemies in the last couple of years."

"Now you're thinkin' like me, Frank. And we're wasting time, 11 Hard castle added icily. "Time McCormick might not have. 11

"Go home, Milt. I'll put out an APB, and we'll let you know as soon as we come up with something. 11

"You do that. II

"Hey, Milt." Harper's voice stopped Hardcastle as his hand touched the doorknob. "If we find that kid shacked up with some bimbo, I'm gonna take it out of his hide."

"Only if you find any left when I'm through with him. 11

Hardcastle walked .through the c:orridors of the police department, thinking back on his last statement. He wished like hell he could think that was all it was: McCormick with his 'hormones overruling brains' mentality shacked up somewhere with one of his ever popular blonde •goddesses'. He wasn't going to be that lucky, though. Cal'I it intuition, a former cop's in stinct, or whatever. The label didn't matter. The kid might have pulled something like this in their early days together, but those days were too

far in the past. No way was it a possibility now. He didn't know everything McCormick was capable of and he probably,. never would. You never knew everything about anyone. But he did know the one thing the kid was abso lutely incapable of: intentionally hurting someone he cared about. McCormick would know how worried the judge was. He'd know he was causing pain. If there were any way to let him know where he was, McCormick would've

found it.

Frustrated, Hardcastle gfowered at everyone he passed in the hallway. Nothing to do but go home. Go home and wait. Milton Hardcastle had never been good at waiting.

Maria smiled at her heavy-lidded hostage as she popped another black beauty into her mouth and sipped from the canteen. She knew Max would disapprove, but he would surely understand given the circumstances. She couldn't risk falling asleep.

Her hostage, however, was having a more difficult time of it. As the second night approached, he'd dozed off several times, jerking himself awake only to have sleep fall upon him again despite his struggles.

"Hostage. 11 She rolled the word across her tongue, !iking the sound of it. "Hostage. 11 The old man was probably going crazy by now if he cared anything at all about this kid. How she would love to creep up to the house and spy on him, but she didn't dare risk it. His turn would come, but for now .. ,

"Hey. Maria. 11

She scowled at the weary sounding voice interrupting ·ner pleasant thoughts. "What ?11

11Nothin1• 11

"Nothing?" She laughed, enjoying his discomfort. "What's the matter, Mark? Hungry? Thirsty?"

"Both, and you know it."

Shesighed impatiently as she rose to refill her canteen. Convenient that the old trailer still had its facilities hooked up; it was something she hadn't been sure of. "That's right1 I do know it. You don't seem to under..,. stand yet, Mark. This isn't supposed to be p1easant; it's punishment. 11 Tossing him an irritated gfare, she finally decided enough time 'had passed, 110ne swallow. 11 She 'held the canteen to his mouth for a brief second, then pulled it away. "I said one swallow. 11

111s this what yot,11ve got planned then? You're just gonna sit here and watch me starve to death?"

"Oh, grow up, for God's sake! 11 She flopped down beside 'her back pack, shaking her head as she looked up at him. "It would take weeks for

you to starve, and I am giving you water. I'm not going to waste my breath trying to explain it to you again."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You wanna see me suffer."

She smiled. He was beginning to understand. "There's so many ways to mak a person suffer, you know? You're doing one kind, and I imagine Hardcastle's doing another. Don't you:?" She watched him, trying to gauge his response. "By the way, just how close are you and Hardcastle?"

"You bitch."

The words were spoken so quietly she could just make them out, but even in the semi-darkness of the trailer's interior, she could see the hatred in the cold blue eyes. .

Oh, struck a nerve, she thought gleefully. If this guy thought she could be intimidated by words and a look, though, he was sad1y mistaken. "Whatsamatter, Mark, baby?" she crooned. "You don't think I shou'ld make the judge suffer? What is he to you, anyhow? Your sugardaddy?" She giggled at the look on his face. If looks could kill... •

"You're sick."

Her giggle halted, replaced by a co·ld fury. 11Don1t ... you ... ever ...

say that to me! 11 she spat, jumping up to jerk his ·head back by the hair.

He didn't respond·, merely continued to stare at ·her with a disgusted

look.

Abruptly switching tactics, she released him and smiled. "You don't

want Hardcastle to suffer, do you, Mark?" "No."

"Then I should put an end to his suffering, shouldn't I?" She watched the alarm cross his face before he successfully hid it behind an emo tionless mask.

"Depends on what you mean. Put an end to his suffering, how?"

"You know how, Mark." She picked up the . 38 and kissed it, snicker ing at the look of dismay that sprang to his face. This guy might as well

give up playing it cool. He's tryin1• Gotta give him that, but his face is a dead giveaway. He cares for that ol' man. Good. I can use that,

"You don't wanna do that, Maria," McCormick said. "You don't wanna kill Hardcastle."

"Oh? So now you're telling me what I w_ant?"

He glared at her mutely, his eyes gleaming, delightful evidence of his frustration.

"You gonna cry? Huh, baby? You gonna cry if I kill your sugardad- dy?" she taunted. •

"No. But so help me, 1111kilt you or die tryin'."

Hate dried the unshed tears as he pinned a daggered glare at her, and her anger grew. Stupid bastards, both of them. Brought all this on themselves, and now aren't willing to suffer the consequences. She took a deep breath and calmed herself. This was her game. She made the rules. "Okay, Mark. I won't ki11 him ... yet. We'·IJ go on like this for a 1ittle while more. Bet he's getting frantic, wondering where you are. You guys really care about each other, don't you:? I can teH by the way you act. Oh, yeah, 11 she smiled with delight at her tension-gripped hostage, "he's probably climb ing the walls by now."

Hardcastle woke to the sound of Richard Simmons urging everyone to 'shake those boodies'. Turning off the television, he stood and tried to

stretch the kinks out.

Confused as to why he'd spent the night fully dressed on the couch, reality finally clicked with a sickening thud. McCormick. The phone had never rung, and he frowned at it as though the instrument were somehow at fal,llt. It was .a waste of time, he knew., but he picked up the receiver anyway, making sure there was a dial tone. No calls. No threats. No de mands. Also, no word from Frank. And it was that very •nothingness',

Hardcastle knew, that was causing his stomach to knot. It was as if the kid had dropped off the face of the earth. One minute he was here, the next he was gone.

"But gone where, goddammit! 11 Hardcastle muttered as he crossed the room and looked out the window toward the gatehouse.

The sudden, irrational hope that the kid might have.. made it home, might be in the gatehouse right now, sprang into his mind. He pushed the thought away, refusing to let it take root and grow. Life was never that

simple. It didn't give you happy endings just because you hoped for them. It was a lesson Hardcastle had learned the hard way. And one he'd prayed he'd never have to go through again. Now this.

He started for the kitchen but stopped short, knowing he had no ap petite. Besides, he'd gotten out of the habit of eating breakfast alone. It no longer seemed natural.

11Oh, hell! 11 He turned and slammed out the door, heading for the gatehouse. Maybe he'd overlooked something, some clue, anything .

. Ten minutes later he stood, staring unseeing into McCormick's fire place. The rooms had yielded no clue as to their missing occupant's where abouts, only a heartwrenching reminder of his absence: clothes and shoes scattered about with careless abandon; books, records, tapes covering every available surface. •

The judge stacked some of the albums haphazardly, resisting the urge to grimace at some of the garish covers. It was so damned quiet, the stillness more deafening than any of McCormick's rock music had ever been. Hard castle's hands tightened on the albums as his eyes traveled around the room. This small house had known more life, more laughter in the past two years than it had ever known in all its previous years of existence. It couldn't be over. The kid was somewhere, dammit, and he was alive. He didn't need

any rationale for· his certainty on that point. If McCormick were dead, he'd know it, would feel it somehow. His lips twitched in an almost smile as he thought of what Frank would say to a statement like that. Probably put in a call to the men in white coats. None of that mattered, though. There had to be an answer to all this, and he didn't feel like sitting around any longer waiting on a phone call that would probably never come.

Jaw set in determination, he walked out of ·the gatehouse without look ing back. He was going to find McCormick if it took calling in every favor owed him for the last 30 years.

Entering the den, he scavaged about for the keys to the truck, curs ing all the while. Damn things must have legs the way they're always dis appearing. 11Hah! 11 He snatched them from between two sofa cushions and started for the door. He was almost there when the phone rang.

McCormick grimaced as he tried to flex his swollen fingers. His wrists were raw after being bound for nearly 48 hours, and he wondered vaguely why people assumed it was an advantage to have your hands tied

in front. There was no advantage unless you could use those hands in some way, and he sure hadn't had any opportunity. Whatever Maria was taking to keep herself awake, it was doing its job only too well.

Nervous, he watched her as she stood and peeked out a curtain. She was really starting to get jumpy, whether from the pills or just tension, he didn't know. Probably both. Didn't matter. She was going to do something soon, he could feel it in the air, an almost palpable presence.

Dammit! He twisted at the ropes, ignoring, as much as possible, the pain in his wrists and stiffened muscles. The eagle-eyed Maria had allowed no chance of escape on the few bathroom excursions he'd been allowed, and he couldn't g_et the ropes to loosen. Whoever taught this bitch to tie a knot did one hell of a job.

"What're you doing?! 11 She twisted around from the window. "Nothing. 11 He tried to clear his throat, knowing his response had

come out a croak. "Nothing," he repeated.

"Better not be. 11 She stood in front of him, bending over so their eyes were level. "You know better than to try anything. You don't look so good, Mark baby. What would the judge think if he could see you now?" She clucked mockingly in false sympathy.

He didn't bother to glare, having l·ong since figured out she enjoyed his frustration.

"Not talking today?" She lifted his chin with her hand. "That's bor- ing, Mark. You don't want me to get bored, do you?"

"What does it matter, what I want?"

"It doesn't. But then, I guess you've already learned that lesson." "I'm tired, Maria, 11 he said dully, feeling his tongue thick in his mouth.

11 I'm .hungry. 11m thirsty. If I t:-iad the energy to be scared, I would be. What more do you want?"

"Oh, I want lots more, Mark; but we're getting there. 11

She caressed his cheek with her hand, and he resisted the urge to jerk back. Instead, he stared at her co'ldly, much as one might look at a particularly loathesome piece of garbage. Something vile and slim;y that stood in one's path.

"'Nhat1re you thinking?" She straightened, looking down at him. "What?"

He smirked dismissively, turning his head, averting his eyes, and re fusing to face her.

The slap wasn't une·xpected.

"Must've read my mind, 11 he quipped, raising his eyebrows in an inso lent manner as he met her stare.

"You ever look at me like that again, and I'll kill you, 11 she said cold

ly.

"What you're gonna do anyway, isn't it?11 "Shut up! Just shut up!11

McCormick's eyes riveted on her as she stalked back to the window.

Damn! Wish my stomach'd quit crampin', Never been so hungry in my life. Even Hardase's infamous liver and onions don't sound bad, His

mouth tightened grimly. This is hardly the time to be worrying about eatin 1,

though. Gotta keep her attention focused on me somehow. This going to the window over and over is new. Scares me. Whatever she's plannin , it looks Iike she's getting ready to include the judge,

He swallowed. Wonder if Hardcastfe1s home? Christ, he must be going crazy! There's got to be an APB out by now, and the judge's· _trying to

figure at! the angles, that's for sure. But he'll never think to check right on his own home ground. Never in a million years. Nobody in their right mind would ever pull a stunt like this. But we're not dealing with someone in their right mind ... and Hardcastle's got no way of knowing that.

11Maria, can I haye some water?" he asked, trying to. distract her from the window.

"No.11

11C1mon. A lousy drink of water. 11

11You look at me like I'm some kind of scum and then you ask me for water?" She eyed him and smiled. "Beg. 11

He sighed. Mission accomplished ... for the moment, anyway. Her thoughts are clearly back on making me as miserable as possible. "P1ease, Maria. I'm so damn thirsty. P1ease ... some water?"

"Is that the bes't you can do? What if I still say no?"

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the gravelly feel of his throat and fighting the tears that threatened to well up. I won't give that bitch the satisfaction ... no matter what the cost. "Please. I'm beggin'. That's what you want, isn1t it? I'd get down on my knees if I could. Please., Ma ria. Just some water."

She chuckled and reached for the canteen, then laughed as she rationed the one pathetic swallow she always allowed. He would hear that evil laugh

for years to come. There was no doubt of that. The only doubt at this point was whether he would live to see those years. Despair washed over him.

Dammit, Hardcase. Wherever you're at, whatever you're doin', rnake it fast, Don't know how much longer I can keep her from coming after you.

Harper's phone call hadn't wasted time or words. "Get down here, Milt.· I wanna see if you recognize a mugshot. 11 He had rung off before Hardcastle could ask any questions, and the judge didn't like the fee-1ing of foreboding that enveloped him now as he entered the lieutenant's office. The worried

look on Harper's face did little to dispel! his feeling of unease. "What've you got, Frank ?11

"Not sure yet. 11 Harper indicated the mugshot lying on his desk.

Hardcastle studied it, shrugged, and turned to Harper, "Who the hell is Maria Corazon?"

"Max Conroy's girlfriend. 11

Picking up the picture., Hardcastle shook his head. 11 I don't recog nize her. Should I?"

"Word travels fast, Milt. You know how it is. Everybody knows Mc-

Cormick's missing." •

"Let's have it, Frank. Is this some of Conroy's work1 Do you know where McCormick is?"

"I wish, 11 Harper replied. "Conroy's a chicken shit, Milt; we both know that, and now he's trying to make a deal. Wait a minute-'" He ges tured impatiently as Hardcastle began to interrupt. "-Let me tell you what we might have here. Conroy heard about Mark disappearing, and he says his girlfriend's probably behind it. 11

"Oh, and he had nothing to do with it!" Hardcastle exploded .

. "Will you listen?! Dammit, Mi'lt, Conroy says she1$ crazy, a real looney tune. l3een in and out of Camarillo· more times than he can count. Says she doesn't mean shit to him, but he kept her around 'cause she's a looker and a good lay. 11

"That sounds like Conroy all right, but what's this got to do with Mc Cormick?"

11That1s what I'm trying to tell you. Conroy says he talked to her last week. She was talking crazy, real off the wall stuff. About how sr.e loved him and how she was gonna get revenge. He figures she somehow got to Mc-

Cormick. 11 •

"So where is she?"

"If we knew that, we1d probably know where McCormick is," Harper returned in a testy tone. "She hasn't been seen around her apartment build ing for several days. 11

"Then she's got him somewhere else. 11

"Maybe. 11 •

"What is it you1re not telling me, Frank?"

"Her car's in impound, towed in yesterday. It was abandoned in a parking lot less than two miles from your place. 11

Hardcastle frowned, confused. "I don't get it. She somehow snatches McCormick, and then they only go two miles? That's crazy, Frank.11

"Exactly. 11

Hardcastle felt the word, with all its meaning, sink in. "We're talking

1crazy' for real, aren't we?" "According to Conroy, yeah."

"You really don't think he's behind this.11

Harper shrugged, running hand through his thinning ·hair. "It's possible, but I d n't think so, Milt. He's trying to deal, but it's like heis running scared, you know? He's afready got enough hanging over his head without adding ... kidnapping to it. 11

"You weren't go_ing to say kidnapping, were you, Frank?" he asked quietly.

"I've got men checking all the motels in the area.11 Harper avoided the question. "And I'm gonna be sending two uniforms out to your place, keep an eye on things until we find her."

"Her, Frank? Not them? 11 He looked long and hard at his long-time friend. 11No phone calls. No contact. You don't think she's holding him in some motel room any more than I do. 11

11We gotta check it out, Milt. At least we're finally doing something. 11

"And while you're doing that, I've got some checking of my own kind to do." Hardcastle slammed a fist into his palm, unable to contain the anger

any longer. 11 I shouldn't have waited. 1 By-the-book' Hardcastle. I remember telling McCormick once-11 He almost smiled at the memory. "-that Lady Justice was a tough old broad, fair, but not always fast. Shoulda paid more attention to my own words. 11

"Milt, I know how you're feeling-"

11-No! You don't. You can't even begin to know." He g·lared at Har per, knowing he was being unfair but unable to help it. "You don't know, 11 he repeated, almost to himself.

"I'll tell you what I do know. You're not blowin1 outta 'here taking the law in your own hands. Not even you, Milt. II •

Hardcastle looked at the lieutenant, hearing a hardness in his tone that matched his own. Harper was a cop. A damn good one. He knew his priorities. He nodded then, decision madeJ praying that it was the rig·ht one. 11:rwenty-four 'hours, Frank. So find 'him fast, and find him alive. • I won't interfere. But if you find him ... dead ... " He started for the door, stopped and looked back. "And don't bother with the bodyguards, Frank; I won't be needin' 1em."

"If it's her, you'll be next on her list."

"Yeah, but I've seen her picture. I know what to look for. McCormick didn't."

"Milt ... II

"No!" . .

"I don't wanna lose two friends," Harper said pointedly.

Hardcastle looked at the floor for a moment before looking back at Har- per. "Let's hope you haven't lost any. Not yet." -

She was talking to herself, over by the window.

McCormick tried to shake off his grogginess. How long had he slept, he wondered as he watched her. In fact, how had he managed to sleep at all, in the uncomfortable, upright position. He'd lost all sense of time, and even the hunger pains had stopped; food didn't seem that important any tonger. "Who're you jabberin' to?" he mumbled.

"What's it to you?" she snarled, coming over to stand in front of him. "Oooh, you're looking bad, Marky baby."

"How long's it been?"

"Since I brought you here?" He nodded.

"Three days. Whatsamatter, sugar, aren't you having any fun?" He sighed, not bothering to answer.

"I asked you a question," she bc!rked and snapped her fingers irri tatingly in front of his face. "Hey, I think it's time we livened up this game, don't you? Answer me, dammit! 11

."Thirsty."

"So be thirsty; I don't care. Doesn't matter any more, anyway."

. McCormick was tired, too tired. His body ached, cramped, but his mind snapped to alertness at her words. He belatedly realiz·ed that he should have noticed the difference at once. Her speech was no longer a taunting drawl, instead words seemed to spit out of her mouth in an almost involuntary rapid fire. Her hands shook. •

He raised his eyes, looked into her face, and almost wished he hadn't.

It might be all the pills she'd been taking, or it might just be her flipping out, but there was a maniacal gJeam in her eyes, and she was smiling in what seemed to be an uncontrollable manner. "Why doesn't it matter any more?" he rasped through his parched throat. "You gonna kill me now?"

St'1e laughed then, that damnable laugh. He could feel his heart thud ding, and he looked down at his chest, feeling a faint surprise that the fur ious pounding wasn't visible through his shirt. Oh, damn, What a lous'y way to die. And I don't even know why.

"I'm not going to kill you yet, Mark," she said, breaking into his thoughts.

He looked at her again, dumbfounded. "What?"

"No, no. 11 She kneeled in front of him., the gun propped on her knee, and began to explain as one would do to a somewhat backward child. "Now is when the fun really begins. See, here's what I do. First, I go up to the house and I see Judge Hardcast'le. I'm gonna tell him that I've killed you, Think I'll get a big reaction to that?" Her words were giggly., sending chills up his spine. •

"He'll kill you."

"No,. he won't. guess I forgot to mention, fim going to be holding a

gun on him. Then, after I get a ... satisfactory reaction to my news, I'm gonna kill him."

"You can't, 11 McCormick said quietly, trying to remain calm. He had to get through to her on some level. 11This isn1t make-believe, Maria. You won1t be able to do it."

"Yes, I will. Once I've had the fun of seeing him squirm, seen the misery in his eyes, I kill him; then·, I come back here, tell you what I've done in graphic detail, and have the same satisfaction of seeing you miser able before I kill you. The perfect revenge. You not only both die, but you each get to know that the other is lost, too. You see? It's so perfect."

"It's not perfect, it's sick. You're sick, .Maria."

She tangled a hand in his hair and, as before, jerked his head back. "I told you not to say things like that."

McCormic;:k watched the sparkle in her eyes with an almost detached, fatalistic air. Despite his pounding heart and the accompanying adrenaline rush, he knew that a part of him, the hard, realistic core, was accepting his fate. The cavalry couldn't always arrive in time. The Lone Ranger and Ton to weren't going to be riding off into the sunset together. It was a nice dream. For a while it had been a nice reality. Now it seemed like it was

over but for on·e last thir-ig. Tonto was the watchdog; it was his job to save the masked-man's hide. If it meant sacrificing his own in the bargain ... he was gonna die, anyway. She'd made that dear, and after listening to her well-thought-out, but oh-so-sick plan, he didn't doubt for a minute she meant it. And could carry it off.

He fixed her with an intense glare, and she released her grip on his hair. "You're not going to do it," he said.

She seemed to see the challenge in his face and backed away. "You can't stop me."

110h? Can't I?" He smiled at her, perversely enjoying the confusion on her face, "JUUUUUDDDGGE! ! ! 11

Yelling at the top of his lungs, he was certain she would shoot, that the noise would alert Hardcastle, that one of , at least, would survive this madwoman. But she didn't shoot. He never had time to register 'his shocked surprise as the gun whipped across his face.

Unease gnawed at Hardcastle's stomach, and he paced, trying to

piece together what was happening. Something besides McCormick was miss ing. Some bit of information, some clue they'd overlooked. He refused to dwell on the obvious. That she ·had taken the kid somewhere., killed him, and then come back and dumped the car. It just didn't make sense. Why would she leave that car? No, something was still missing.

He regretted his promise to Frank. The thought caused a stinging sensation in his eyes, and he blinked rapidly, bringing the threatened damp ness under control. Tears were for the dead, and McCormick wasntt. Not yet. No matter what Frank thought. He'd said 24 hours; if Frank's people hadn't found the kid by then ...

Hardcastle lowered himself into a chair, noticing without much sur prise his hands balled up into tightly ·clenched fists, It took every ounce of his willpower to fight the urge to begin his search immediately. If he started ca11ing in favors· to get information on the Corazon woman, it was bound to be tainted evidence. It would never stand up in court. But if

he didn't, if he waited, and it turned out 24 hours had made the difference

7 f..

between finding the kid alive or finding him dead ... he couldn't livA. with that.

Hardcastle raised his head and exhaled deeply, his eyes falling upon

his wife's photo on the mantle. He'd had no chance to prevent Nancy's death, nor before that, his son's. But this time it was different. There might be a chance, and God forgive him, but the oath of allegiance to the law he had sworn to uphold paled in comparison.

He jumped, startled by a sudden knock on the door. Hastening across the room, he could feel hisl heart racing. Maybe Frank had found something, ..

He knew the gravity of his mistake the instant the door opened. She was standing th re, shaking as though palsied, and the gun,

clutched firmly in two hands, was pointed straight at him. "Aren't you going to invite me in, Judge?"

He stepped back as she advanced into the foyer. "Where's McCormick?" "Who?"

He tried to keep his voice calm as he took in: her dishevelled appearance, the unnatural gleam in her eyes and the way her mouth kept curving upward, only to tighten, then curve into another smile. "Mark McCormick. The guy you kidnapped from here three days ago."

110hh ... Mark. Yeah." •

11Well?11.

"Well what ?11

"WHERE IS HE?! II

"J uuddge ... such concern. 11

Hardcastle tried to control his .mounting rage as he stared into her gloat ing face. It wasn't easy to do. "Listen, Miss Corazon.,." t the surprised look she gave him, he nodded. "Oh, yeah, we know who you are. We've been looking for you. 11

"Couldn't have looked very hard .11 She grinned, breaking into a bark ing laugh. "He was so disappointed, Judge. He really thought youid try harder to find him, 11 •

"What're you talking about? What've you done with McCormick? Where is he?"

"He's right where he's been all along., Judge, right under your nose."

Hardcastle stared as she laughed maniacally. What in the helj is the woman talking about? He let his glance fall to the gun. No, there's no way I can grab it from her. Not till I know where the kid is, 11 I don't unaerstand, 11 he said, shaking his head, exaggerating his puzzlement, pla-yin9 'the old man'.

11We1ve been right here aH along, you old fool! Down in the gardener's trailer."

He froze in stunned sickness as the missing piece fell. into place. She hadn't taken McCormick ci ywhere. Right under his nose!

"He kept thinking you'd surely find him, 11 sh,e taunted. "Poor baby was so miserable, Judge. So 'hungry. And thirsty. 11

"Where is he now? Stil'I in the gardener's trailer?" Hardcastle tried

to ask the question calmly, fighting off the angry bile that threatened to rise in his throat.

"You could say that."

"He is, or he isn't. Now, which is it:11

"You're not near as much fun as Mark was,11 she pouted. "Guess you don't care so much about him as he did about you. 11

.,.,

"If you' re gonna kiH me, 11 he said slowly, i1then go ahead and pull the trigger now. Otherwise, I'm walking out of here and going straiSJht to that trailer."

She backed up several steps, her eyes gleaming wildly, and grinned.

11Won;t do you any good. You're too late.11

Hardcastle tried to make sense of her words over the roar filling his

head.

11 I got what I wanted from him. Besides, he was startin' to get on ryiy

nerves. 'Oh,· please, Maria, I'm so thirsty',; she mimicked. "He begged real good, Judge, and believe me, I had him beggin·g.11

"You said ... too late.11

11 I killed him, 11 she stated bluntly. 11Just a few minutes ago. Right before I came up and knocked on your door. 11

Hardcastle closed his eyes, not wanting, refusing, to believe her. He opened them again; indicated her gun. 11You haven't killed him. I'd have heard the shot. 11

11Judge, Judge, Judge, 11 she clucked reprovingly, 11 I never said I shot him. I do h ve some sense, you know. Of course you'd have heard a gun shot. But you wouldn1t hear a knife, would you? A sharp, gleaming butch er knife? You ever seen anyone gutted before, Judge?"

Hardcastle lunged without thought, driven by pure animal rage. The roar of the gun barely registere_d in his mind, but the pain and the impact threw him back and down onto the floor. ·He could hear her hysterical laugh as she ran off.

The trailer. McCormick and ... a knife. She has to be lying. She has

to. I gotta know. Cot to get to the trailer ... find out.

Hardcastle knew, even as he struggled to his feet., he'd never make the distance. He'd caught her off-balance, but the blood was pouring from the wound in his shoulder. He leaned against the wafl, eyes focusing on the telephone. Frank. Fran_k could 'find Mark fast. .. and alive•. If it wasn't too late. If the gardener's trailer hadn't become a bloody, nightmarish cof fin. Hardcastle stumbled forward, ignoring his pain. He didn't stop until he had the phone in his hand.

McCormick was slowly regaining consciousness when Maria burst into the trailer. With a savage jerk, his head was yanked back, and he grimaced at the throbbing pain.

"Did you hear it, baby? Did you hear the shot?11 "What shot?" he mumbled in a fog.

"Hardcastle, you idiot! I told you I was going to shoot him, and that's just what I did. 11

She was jumping around the trailer's sma11 interior, waving the gun wildly in a macabre victory dance.

McCormick shuddered, ignoring the blood running from his temple down the side of his face. She cou·ldn1t be te11ing the . Hardcastle· couldn't die so easily. It was obscene. 111 don•t ... believe you.11

"Oh, you can believe it, baby." She danced over to where he sat., fanned the gun under his nose, then pressed it against his cheek. "You can smell it, can1t you? Maybe it still feels warm?"

His thoughts whipped about incoherently. Is she lying? She1s capable, Yet there1s a... a note of triumph in her voice. Is this how it's a/I meant to end? At the hands of a female lunatic? He was scarcely aware of the tears that dripped down· onto his shirt, mingling freely with the blood. They

didn't matter. If it;s true ... 11Why?11 he whispered hoarsely, not looking at her. "Why?!''

She caressed his cheek with the gun much as she had done on the first day, this time drawing a pattern in the blood and tear mixture. "Poor Mark." She sighed dramatically. ")'ou know, it's a beautiful day outside, it really is. It's a shame you never got to finish planting all those pretty flowers. 11 She knelt in front of him, tilting her head to one side in a mad

dening mock. 1111m sure there will be lots of pretty flowers at your funerais, though. Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase 'The Rites of Spring', doesn't it?11

He looked at her, and his insides turned to ice. Her taunting face was only inches away, and he spat, with all his force, directly into it.

Screeching, she jumped to her feet, wiping at the saliva as though it were acid. "You bastard! You filthy bastard! Shooting's too good for you!" She stalked about the room making angry gutteral noises.

His eyes bored into her with unblinking hatred. He wasted no energy trying to loosen his bindings. He'd tried too many times; it couldn't be done. With a sense of irony, he realized he wasn't really even scared any more. It was probably shock. Oh, he wasn't laughing in the face of death; he wasn't that far gone, it was just... He smiled faintly, almost forgetting her presence. You gonna be there waitin' on me, Hardcase? You better be.

"What the hell are you smiling at?! 11 she yelled.

He gave her an almost patient look. "Nothing," he said slow1y, "that a person like you could ever hope to understand."

"Well, I understand this much, you bastard. You're gonna die, and you're gonna die slow. 11 She ran into the trailer's back room, returning with an armload of musty smelling sheets, one of the few bits of evidence that the trailer had ever known occupancy. She flapped them out, lying them in a loose circle around the chair that held McCormick, pulling the edges in to: ward his feet.

His throat jerked in spasms as he saw her pull a book of matches from her backpack. Oh, not like this, Please, Cod. The thought skittered through his mind. She smiled up at him. God didn t seem to be listening much these days.

She lit a match, watched the flickering flame for a moment, then blew

it out. ''I wonder which you'll die of," she said., as though the question were worthy of academic pondering, "the smoke or the fire ifself? Of course,

you'll burn to a crisp, but stil'I, it's not fair that I'll never actually·know.

Oh, well .11

"Can't win 'em all, huh7" Can't believe I said that! The bubble of hysteria was quickly buiiding inside him, an almost physical thing. This can't be real, none of it. It's iust too... bizarre. Another minute, and I'll be laughing ... hysterlcally.

She lit another match. Stood and dropped it onto the dry, moldy sheets. Then yet another. And another. Turning quickly she scooped up the backpack and headed for the door.

"Maria! "

He saw her turn and look back at him as the flames gathered momentum, inching their wrty closer to his feet, the foul smelling smoke beginning to fill the air in the small enclosure. Frantic, McCormick tossed his head. 11May, .. you ... rot ... in ... hell. .. for ... all ... eternity." He'd never wished condemna tion on another living , but he didn't regret it now.

She smiled enigmatically, then walked out the door, closing tt firmly behind her.

Harper had been at his. desk when the call came. The judge's pain choked voice on the other end of the line had sent him flying out of his of fice at breakneck speed. Ordering his men to enter with no sirens, he wasn't the least bit surprised to find Hardcastle making his way toward the woods, a towel clutched inside his shirt to try and stop the bleeding.

They spotted the Corazon woman coming through the trees. Trye next instant she saw them', a'nd time stood still. She stared at Hardcastle in dis belief, and he stiffened, his eyes becoming hard, icy steel, matching the ex pression on his face.

Harper watched, his gun fixed on her as she stung her backpack around. If what Hardcastle had said was true, he hoped she'd go for her gun, give him an excuse.

But she didn't. Her head was darting back and forth like a trapped animal's. The police advanced from all sides, and she fell to her knees screaming, pounding the grour:id, much as a child who had been deprived of a prize toy. • .

Harper indicated for his men to move in and turned his attention back to Hardcastle. Neither of _them spoke. The Judge1s message replayed in Harper's memory. 11She's here. Shot me. Down in the gardener's trailer. She's killed McCormick. 11 What the hell do I say.·to him? "Milt," he finally said, knowing he was wasting his breath, "you better sit down. The ambu lance will be here any second. 11 His voice was none too steady, and he knew it. Damn! I liked the kid, too.

"Get me to the tra:iler, Frank." "Milt. .. II

"Get me to the trailer." "My men will ... "

"Frank! 11

"Okay!u Harper nodded his head, one quick decisive movement. No point was tin' Milt's strength with a stupid argument. Not now. But what did she do to McCormick.? What are we walking into? 11

"She knifed him, 11 Hardcast1e said quietly, answering his unspoken question.

Harper set his mouth firmly as he pulled Hardcastfei•s good arm over his shoulder, and they began to walk to the trailer. This is going to be rough on me, but God, it's gonna kill Milt. ';Shut her up! 11 he yelled as they passed by· where Corazon was being handcuffed, still screaming and cursing at the top of her lungs. 11

"Too late, too late, too late!" she yelled, trying to kick out at Hard castle.

"Hey, Lieutenant," said one of the young uniformed policemen, "do

you smell smoke?"

"Huh?" Harper looked around, sniffing the air.

''Heeee's buuurrning," Corazon drawled slowly ·and sadistically. "Frank ... !" Hardcast1e1s voice was sharp, horrified.

Harper followed the judge's gaze. He could just make out the trailer through the trees in the distance ... and the smoke beginning to pour from it. "Aaah, shit!" he groaned, taking off at a run. Isn't killing McCormick enough?! Does she have to burn him up.,· too?! He could· hear the others running far behind him, but he didn1t wait. He had to get McCormick out of there before he burned.· Milt's a/reddy going through hell.,· but: this is just too damned much.

Reaching the trailer, he flung open the door and tried to peer through

as smoke came billowing out. Where's McCormick? He froze, heart lurching at a faint coughing, choking sound off to his right. "Mark!"

The smoke strangled his yell, but he heard the cough again and threw himself in its direction. McCormick was lying on his back, and he landed al most on top of him. He tried to lift the prone figure, but something was holding it·down. Frantically, he felt along the cough-spasming body.

Ropes ... and a tilted over chair. Grabbing the ever-present Swiss knife in his pocket, he cut at the ropes, .hoping he wasn't cutting the kid in the pro cess. Teary eyes and heavy smoke made it impossible for him to see, and there wasn't time to be ca,.eful. Noises came from outside, a chorus of his men's voices, topped by the sound of Hardcastle bellowing his name. Grab bing McCormick in his arms, he ducked past the encroaching flames and stumbled out the door.

Hardcastle, pale and waxen stood waiting, still clutching his shoul der. Harper looked up at him, wanting to say "He's alive" but unable to stop coughing long enough to get the words out. He didn't need to. As he moved to lay McCormick down, the younger man coughed, jerking in his arms in an oxygen-deprived spasm.

Hardcastle reached out with his good arm, touching McCormick's face as if to be sure he hadn't imagined the movement, arid Harper felt McCor mick's head turn in the direction of the touch, as if he some-how knew it was the judge.

Harper had no trouble reading the judge;s eyes as they turned to meet his. No words were necessary. Between friends, they seldom were,

Hardcastle nodded his approval as McCormick flushed the hospita·I

food down the toilet. The burger melt the kid had snuck in under his jacket was much tastier than the cafeteria glue they'd brought him to eat.

"So, they're gonna let you go 'home tomorrow, Milt?" Harper asked from his comfortab1e spraw'I in the chair at Hardcastle's bedside.

"Yeah. Ridiculous keeping me in here four days for a piddling shoul der wound."

"Don't get him started, Frank, 11 advised McCormick, coming back into the room and flopping down on the foot of the judge's bed. "He wanted to

go home as soon as they dug the bullet out, woulda been walkin' out the door while they were still putting the stitches in, if he'd had his way."

"You got no room to talk, 11 growled Hardcastle, pointing a finger at McCormick. "You oughta still be in here yourself.1'

"Judge, I'm fine. I keep tellin1 ya. I was just plain lucky to be able to throw myself back far enough to keep the fire from reaching me ... well, much, anyway. And Frank got me out before the smoke had time to do any real damage."

"Oh, excuse me. Smoke-filled lungs, first degree burns on the bottom of your legs, rope burns so deep they'll probably leave scars and no food

for three days. But you didn't have any real damage."

McCormick sighed and stared at the ceiling as if appealing for assis tance, then turned and smiled at the judge. "The only real damage is gonna come when you see the grocery bill." He shrugged, rubbing his stomach.

"I had three days to make up for.11 •

Now it was Hardcastle's turn to appeal to the ceiling. "Get offa my foot, McCormick, 11 he grumbled. "Go away. 11

"You know you don't mean that, 11 said McCormick, smiling.

Q ')

11 I know. 11 Hardcastle frowned as the sound of Harper's laughter inter rupted his grousing. "Whatire you laughing at?"

"You two. It's nice to have things back to, uh, semi-normal .11 Hardcastle snorted, finishing up his burger melt as he watched Mc

Cormick turn his grin toward Harper. Semi-normal was as close as he could ever hope to get as long as this crazy kid was around. As close as he want ed to get if it came down to that. "We owe you, Frank," he said, suddenly serious. "More than we'll ever be able to repay. 11

"Definitely," added McCormick.

11Hey, c1mon! 1 was just doing my job. Speaking of which, you both might like to know, our Miss Corazon is back in Camarillo."

"Good!" muttered McCormick.

Hardcastle agreed fervently, but he didn't want to talk about it now, not while those three days of hell were still so fresh. "You changed the subject real good, Frank."

"Huh?"

"Here we are tryin' to thank you for being a hero, and you won't even let us," Hardcastle said, grinning.

"Okay, that's it. If you're gonna start talking mush, I'm leaving." Harper half-rose from his chair only to be shoved back, not ungently, by McCormick, a broad smile lighting the younger man's face. He sat, a faint blush working its way up his face, and glanced from one to the other.

Finally, he 'harrumphed'-a perfect imitation of the judge.

Hardcastle laughed. At Harper's endearing embarrassment. At McCor mick for ... what the hell. .. just far being so endearingly McCormick.

God, but it felt good to laugh.