Thicker Than Water
By Brate
M7:SRT AU
Disclaimer: MagSeven characters are the property of MGM, Mirisch, and Trilogy Entertainment.
0300 hours, Friday
Vin's houseboat, SS Bounty
Vin Tanner woke up with a start. He clutched the sheet to his chest, breathing heavily.
Dammit! It was that freakin' nightmare again. Every night for the past week he had awakened in a cold sweat, trying to shake the image from his mind -- the vision of his dad dying... alone.
And now his dad's killer was getting out. After eight short years he would be set free from the four walls that held him in check. Free to hurt someone else. Free to destroy someone else's life. Free to kill again. There was no reason that man should be alive when his father was not. Eight years compared to an entire lifetime just didn't add up.
Vin groaned and got out of bed. In the darkness of the night, he walked across the boat's cabin and out onto the deck.
Yesterday was the last straw. The murderer had called and left a message on his voicemail. That asshole even knew how to reach him! He had asked Vin to come see him in prison, most likely to ask him for forgiveness, as if that were a possibility. And Vin was having a hard time deciding what to do. Should he go see the man or do what his gut screamed for him to do? He tried so hard to fight his instinct telling him to wait outside the prison and shoot the man as he exited. But his code of honor warred with that, calling the action murder, and telling him it would make him no better than the man he hated. And yet, he still longed to take the man's life -- to punish him.
His turbulent thoughts were not lessened by his tranquil surroundings, and his houseboat brought him no peace, no escape from the conflict. Normally, he was content here. He wasn't sure if it was the subtle and soothing feeling of being on the water or just being by himself.
It's not as though he ever launched the boat. It remained tied to the dock that Josiah had helped him build in the lake at the back of the team's property. Even when his father owned it, the boat merely stayed at dock at the Reservation. But it was a great feeling, a balm to his wild soul, not being locked inside a house or apartment. He knew the rest of the team thought he was odd for wanting to live in an old houseboat that never went anywhere, but to him it was freedom. Even if the only traveling he did while on it was within his mind.
Now that he had a family again, alone time was harder to find. A family, unbelievable as it seemed, after being alone for so long. And now he had six new brothers where before he'd been an only child. Visiting the Res, being adopted by his father's tribe, it hadn't been the same. It wasn't enough. There was a void that had never been filled, an empty spot in his heart until he met Chris Larabee. From the moment he saw him from his perch on the fire escape, he'd seen a soul mate -- someone who had the same emptiness inside.
Now his fragile peace was threatening to come crashing down around him. The news that the bastard who had killed his father had been granted early parole had brought stark reality back with a vengeance. And the void, so slow to heal and fill, was being ripped open and widened.
Vin stood up and stretched out, casually stepping out of his boxers and stripping off his t-shirt. He jumped off the end of his boat into the water, and let himself sink below the surface. Looking around the dark water, he remained submerged until he could hold his breath no more. He shot up from the water, sucking in precious oxygen in a great gasp. The young man swam back and forth, strong strokes sliding easily through the water. He soon tired and headed back to his boat.
He pulled himself back up on the deck, wiped himself off, and wrapped the towel around his middle. Vin sat down in a chair, stretched out, and hiked his feet up on the rail of his boat. He leaned back, looking up at the moon and down on its mirror image in the water. The ripples washed the reflection, the swaying motion soothing his tattered fears. Slowly his eyes drifted shut and he slept.
~~*+*~~~*+*~~~*+*~~
Chris Larabee slid his truck to a stop and parked it. He got out and walked over to the dock where Vin's boat, the SS Bounty, was tied up. He drew a deep breath. There was no way he wanted to do this.
His sniper had been acting squirrelly for the past week or so. Tanner no longer spent any of his free time with them, no longer ate with them, no longer wanted to be part of the group. He'd effectively shut them out. It made Chris and the others nervous and they looked to him to find out what was going on. Nothing like drawing the short straw. He walked the length of the dock and glanced over the rail of the boat to see Vin, eyes closed, clad in only a towel, shivering in a deck chair.
Chris looked down at his best friend. Vin clearly hadn't been sleeping much. There were dark circles under his eyes and he'd lost weight. It wasn't as though the lean man could afford it.
Without even opening his eyes, Vin seemed to know he was there. "Just gonna stand there or are you gonna offer me a beer?"
"It's seven in the morning."
"Your point being...?"
"It's too early."
"No such thing." The sniper proved his point by rising smoothly to his feet, retreating inside his boat's cabin, and returning with a beer. He leaned against the doorframe and took a swig. "What brings you out here? I thought we were off 'til Tuesday."
"You are." Chris glanced around, wishing there was an easy way to approach this. Tanner was notoriously closed-mouthed about his past. Even after being in the team for a few months, he was still separated by an invisible barrier. Only Chris had come close to breaching it; he knew what was in the sniper's soul even if his mind was still blocked. "I was wondering if there was anything I could do for ya?"
"Nope." Vin took another slug of the beer.
"There's something wrong, just look at you." An inner pain haunted the young man's eyes; it was something that Larabee ached to alleviate.
"I can't; I'm just too pretty. Hurts m'eyes."
"I'm serious, Vin."
"I ain't no damsel in distress, Larabee."
"How 'bout a man who's stressed?"
Vin polished off the bottle. "I think the visit's over." He turned around and walked into the cabin, closing the door behind himself.
"That went well," Chris muttered to the door. "Guess I have to try something else." He walked back out to his truck and dialed Buck's cell.
"Yeah?"
"Buck, it's Chris. I'll be gone for the rest of the day."
"You find out what's bothering Slick?"
"Not yet," Chris answered, "but I'm working on it."
1115 hours, Friday
Travis Industries Main Office
"Mr. Travis?"
"Yes, Jeremy?" Orrin looked up from his desk to see his assistant in the doorway.
"Mr. Larabee is here to see you."
"Send him right in."
"Yes, sir."
Jeremy left, and Travis pushed aside his work, clearing off his desk as best he could. Larabee wasn't prone to spontaneous visits, especially with the distance between them, so it must be important. The SRT's leader entered the office and greeted the businessman warmly.
"What can I do for you, Chris? Something the team needs?"
"Actually, it's personal."
"Oh?" Travis was surprised. Even though Larabee had been head of the Special Response Team for months, the man had yet to make a personal request. "What do you need?"
"Information. About Vin."
"And you think I can help you," Travis stated.
"You knew about him. You knew how he could be found."
"Yes," Orrin said, nodding slowly.
"Can you tell me any reason why he'd be upset lately?"
"Upset?"
Larabee started pacing, showing his frustration. "For the past week he's been off."
"Off?" Even though Travis knew exactly what Chris was getting at, he was stalling. He didn't look forward to telling him about Vin.
"Yeah. He doesn't want to do anything with us. Just sits out on his boat and drinks. He hasn't been sleeping and I don't think he's been eating much, if anything."
Travis sighed. "I can't say I'm surprised. I should've known this would happen." He motioned for Chris to stop pacing and sit down. "How much do you know about Vin's father, Joshua?"
"I know he was one of the best snipers the Marines ever had before he was killed."
"I could be breaking Vin's trust by telling you, but if he's in bad shape, someone needs to step in. I only hope he forgives me." Orrin paused, collecting his thoughts. "Vin's father was hit by a car was driven by Bill Tandy; the man was drunk at the time. When the charge turned to vehicular manslaughter, he pled no contest and went to prison." He dropped his head to his chest, shaking it back and forth. "Vin was crushed. He was sixteen and his whole world had revolved around his father. He was sent to live with his maternal grandparents; two less tolerant people you will never meet. Vin lived with them until his eighteenth birthday when he disappeared."
"What happened?" Chris spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.
"He hated living with them; I knew he would. They tried to make him into a carbon copy of themselves -- self-important and posh." Travis saw Chris smile, probably at the same mental picture that Travis saw: Vin Tanner being 'civilized' by his two relatives. With everything the billionaire knew about Vin, the lad would've balked at every turn. "As soon as it was legal for him to do so, he left. I lost track of him for a while. On purpose, actually. I knew he didn't want to be found. After a year with no word, I was concerned. His mother had been a good friend of mine, and I felt somewhat responsible for him. I hired a private investigator to track him down."
"Where was he?"
"It took me two investigators to find him. He was lying low, out west, working as a bounty hunter. I'm not sure how he managed to get into that business, but he was amazingly good at it. Vin only went after big bounties; he would capture them, turn them in, collect the money, and disappear. He sent money to the Reservation, but nothing else would show up on the radar, no bank accounts, no big purchases. I think he was worried about his grandparents finding him."
"Did they ever find him?"
Travis shook his head. "I don't think so. I switched investigators every year or so; I didn't want Vin to get scared off. JD was the last one I used."
"That's how the kid knew about him for the team."
"Yes, he kept track of Vin for a few months before you hired him."
"That still doesn't explain why Vin is freaking out now," reminded Chris.
Orrin lowered his voice, pain clearly showing through. "Bill Tandy is being released next week."
~~*+*~~~*+*~~~*+*~~
When Chris arrived at the ranch that evening, after the long, thoughtful drive back, he barely got in the door before the questions started.
"Did you find out what's wrong with Vin?" JD asked.
"Is he okay?" Nathan wondered.
Josiah and Buck came in the room.
"Did you discover what troubles our brother?" Sanchez crossed his arms on his chest.
Buck got right into Chris' face. "So, what'dya find out?"
Larabee pushed Buck away and told everyone to settle down. "How 'bout y'all give me a minute to breathe here?"
The ladies' man held up his hands in surrender and went to sit next to JD on the couch. The others took their own seats, and when Ezra wandered in and saw the somber group, he sat down as well.
Once he calmed himself and gathered his thoughts, Chris supplied the information he'd learned from Travis. The only one who didn't seem too surprised was JD, although even he was unaware of the upcoming release of the man who had killed Vin's father.
"And what should we do to relieve our companion's burden?" Ezra inquired.
"Leave him be," Chris stated.
"Inaction might not be the wisest action," Josiah said. "A shepherd must not only tend to his flock, but fight off the wolves."
Chris angrily confronted the peace-loving psychologist. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
"I think our brother can use some help fighting his demons."
1730 hours, Sunday
Vin's Houseboat, SS Bounty
For the second time in as many days, Chris approached his friend's boat apprehensively. He'd struggled all the previous night and that morning over what he should say to Vin. Knowing his own pain, and his own reluctance to discuss it, he was loath to pry into his friend's life.
It was decided for him when he caught a glimpse of Tanner scrubbing down his boat. Shirtless, in cutoff jeans, he looked even more gaunt than yesterday, if that were possible. Concerned about the health of his friend, Chris stepped forward and said, "Do you want to talk about him?"
Vin whipped his head around; he hadn't heard Chris coming. "Who?" He stood up and faced the new arrival.
"Your father."
"Who told you about him?" Blue eyes narrowed.
"Travis. He's worried about you," Chris admitted. "And so am I. I thought you might like to talk."
Vin laughed harshly. He dropped the brush he'd been using to scrub his deck. "This from a man who don't say more'n three words in a day. Now you wanna talk?"
Chris remained silent through the outburst.
Vin had started pacing the length of the deck. After a couple circuits, he stopped and stood, eyeing his friend. Making a decision, he walked inside and brought out two beers, handing one to Larabee.
Chris took the beer and a seat, waiting to see what would happen.
Vin sat on the deck railing. He looked out over the water, refusing to look in Chris' direction as he started to speak. "My grandparents always hated m'dad. Never knew if it was from him bein' in the service or him bein' part Indian. Never much cared. When I was five, my ma died and they tried to take me away from 'im. They said me traveling 'round with him was 'no life for a boy'." Vin shook his head and smiled ruefully. "Luckily their money didn't win and my dad cut off all contact with 'em."
"So you got to stay with your dad," Chris said quietly. He hoped his interruption wouldn't stop the story, but it appeared Josiah was right; Vin had held his pain in for too long -- he needed to talk about it.
"Until he was killed when I was sixteen." At this, Vin finally faced Chris. "He was walkin' down the street and got hit by a drunk driver. Judge said I had to go live with the Stantons; they made me cut my hair."
"Which is one reason you like to wear it long now," Chris ventured. "Shows your stubborn streak."
"I like to think of it as independence."
Both men chuckled.
Vin's smile quickly faded as he returned his thoughts to the past. "I made it two years with 'em before I took off. Wasn't sure if they'd come after me so I stayed outta sight. Met a guy who was trackin' people and bringin' 'em in for money. Turned out to be good at it, m'self. Made a good living, and just kept on movin'."
"Sounds like your dad would be proud. You never gave up and you used the skills that he taught you."
Vin shrugged. He set down his still-full beer bottle, picked up the scrub brush, and once again started scouring his boat clean. "Did ya know I got a couple million in a trust somewhere?" he called over his shoulder.
Larabee hadn't known, but he wasn't surprised. "Don't let Ezra hear that. He'll expect you to pay your poker debts."
Vin shook his head. "I ain't ever gonna touch it."
"Maybe you can put it to good use."
"I said I don't want it!" he lashed out, throwing the brush. It sailed past Chris and landed in the water with a splash.
The blond held up his hands. "We want to help you, Vin."
"I don't want your help."
"But you need it."
Vin glared at his boss. His chest heaved in fury, his breathing harsh and his jaw clenched.
Chris withstood the anger easily.
The young man made a visible effort to relax. He drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, eyes closing in acceptance. "I'll call if I need you."
Larabee knew that was all he could expect from his exceptionally private friend. "You have the number," he called as he turned and walked away.
1045 hours, Monday
Exeter County Prison
Vin hesitated at the entrance. He'd already passed through the gate, now he just had to step through the doors into the visitor's center and ask to see the man who wrecked his life. He wasn't sure if he had enough willpower to go through with this; it was now or never. The young man took a deep breath and walked inside. He saw a woman behind bulletproof glass, and assumed that was the place to sign in.
"I'd like to visit someone, please," Vin told her once she looked up.
"Name of prisoner?"
"William Tandy."
The woman typed into the computer and, after a moment, glanced up sharply. "Are you a relative?"
"No, ma'am."
"Friend?"
Vin laughed harshly. "Not hardly, I just want to see the man. Is there a problem?"
"Yes, I'm sorry to have to tell you... Mr. Tandy was killed."
Vin's eyes widened in shock. "What?"
"I'm very sorry."
"When did this happen? I mean, he just called me on Thursday."
She seemed reluctant to give him any more information, especially as he was not a relative of the deceased.
"Please, miss. I'd just like to know what happened."
She glanced around, making sure no one was nearby, and leaned over the counter, speaking in a low tone. "It says here he was knifed by his cellmate at approximately seven o'clock Friday night."
Vin knew that was scarcely a day after Tandy had left the message on his voicemail. He nodded at the woman and remembered to say, "Thank you," before exiting the facility. He returned home, barely conscious of the long drive.
1100 hours, Tuesday
Vin's Houseboat, SS Bounty
Vin had finished cleaning his boat the day before after returning from the prison. He hadn't known how to react to the news. The man who killed his father was dead. He should be happy, but....
All he felt was emptiness.
The ringing of his cell phone interrupted his misery and self-pity. It had to be Chris. The blond had called him twice yesterday, but Vin hadn't been in the mood to talk. He flipped open the phone and shouted, "I done told you, I'm fine!"
"Uh, Mr. Tanner?"
Vin paused. This definitely was not Chris. "Yeah."
"Mr. Vin Nighthorse Tanner, originally from Red Gate, Texas?"
"Yeah, now who is this?"
"My name is Douglas Beckley. I am the lawyer that is taking care of Mr. William Tandy's Last Will and Testament."
Inwardly Vin groaned. It seemed the nightmare was not over yet. "What's that gotta do with me?"
"Mr. Tandy left something for you in his will. I was to contact you in case of his demise."
"What?" Vin stood up, clutching the phone. "What are you talking about?"
"Mr. Tandy left an envelope for you to open in case of his death," Beckley stated. "Is there any way you can come to Albuquerque to pick it up?"
"Yeah," Vin said, making a quick decision. "I can be there in a few hours."
"Wonderful." The lawyer gave directions to his office before hanging up.
Vin closed the phone. What the hell was Fate up to now?
~~*+*~~~*+*~~~*+*~~
Tanner walked through the door that read: Beckley, Harris, and Howe; Attorneys at Law. The reception desk was directly inside and after announcing himself, he was escorted into the inner office of Douglas Beckley. A slightly overweight man, with a less-than-full head of hair, was bent over his desk. At Vin's approach he looked up and rose, extending his hand.
"Mr. Tanner?"
"Yes." Vin shook the offered hand and sat down.
"Did you know Mr. Tandy well?"
"Well enough."
Perhaps Beckley could feel the tension radiated by the young man. He got right to business. "May I please see some identification?"
Vin brought his driver's license out, handing it across the desk.
The attorney checked some papers before holding up an envelope. "This letter was supposed to sent to you on the day of William's release or in the event of his death, which ever came first."
Vin took it carefully, folding it into a pocket. He didn't know what to make of it, but he was certain he didn't want to open it here.
"I just need you to sign this as acknowledgement that you've received the item and then you can go," Beckley stated, pushing a paper and pen toward Vin.
Scrawling his signature, he stood up and remembered his manners enough to say thank you before darting out of the office.
There was a small park across the street from the lawyer's office, and Vin jogged over to it with the envelope clutched in his hand. He didn't want to open it, afraid to know what it contained, but at the same time knew his curiosity would win. What would his father's killer need to tell him? Sitting down on a bench on the outskirts of the park, Vin paused. He looked around, watching life: children playing, families walking, dogs running. It simply reminded him of what he'd lost so long ago.
After enough time had passed, Vin decided he was ready to read the letter he'd been unconsciously stroking. Taking a deep breath he carefully tore the flap and brought out the single sheet of lined paper inside. It was a handwritten letter dated almost two years prior.
Vin,
I cannot tell you how sorry I am that I entered your life years ago. I chose the wrong path and have regretted it ever since. I thought I'd be able to live with myself, but it's been too hard.
I was paid $100,000 to kill your father and told exactly how to do it and where he would be. I was instructed to drink enough alcohol to show up on a screen, but not enough to inhibit my ability to finish the job. I am ashamed to say I did it to give my own son a chance at a better life.
I cannot tell you who hired me, because I fear for my life. The man has visited me three times since my incarceration, and I am certain he is keeping tabs on me.
I know I can never have your forgiveness and yet I cannot help but ask for it.
With deep shame,
William Franklin Tandy
It was intentional? Shaking hands held the letter, re-reading it again, and again. His father died, not in an accident, but because someone wanted him dead? Who could have done that, been so callous to end a good man's life? Tears streamed down his face, and he felt like he had taken a severe blow -- to his heart. A life taken, deliberately, and made to look like an accident.
He rocked back and forth on the bench, feeling the reality he knew and lived shake beneath him. Someone had paid Tandy to make him an orphan and send him into hell. Vin didn't know how long he grieved, or at what point rage started taking hold, but the pain was all encompassing, all consuming.
Eventually, his rational mind started to return, and he racked his brain, trying to see through his sorrow and fury.
Who could have wanted his father dead? Someone from his time in the military? Something personal? How could he find out?... Tandy's cellmate! It couldn't be a coincidence that Tandy was killed after calling him. The cellmate must've been paid to insure Tandy's silence. But how could he find out the cellmate's name? And could he get in to see him?
He needed to stay in town, and head back to the prison tomorrow. He'd figure something out. And there was one place in town that he knew would be available to him.
~~*+*~~~*+*~~~*+*~~
Orrin Travis marched up to the door as if he owned the place -- which, technically, he did. But he hesitated as his arm reached to knock on the penthouse door. Vin wouldn't be expecting or wanting company. The businessman knew Tanner was there because he'd received a call from Benjamin Macy, the manager of Ambassador Arms West. The executive apartment located in the building was made available for any or all of the Special Response Team when they came to Albuquerque. Travis had called Macy earlier in the week and asked to be notified immediately if any of the team came to stay.
Knowing what he had to do, he steeled himself and knocked firmly on the door. Travis heard movement from within, but none came close to the entrance. He knocked again, harder. By the third knock, the door flew open. Vin stood there with a violent expression on his face.
Chris hadn't exaggerated the lad's condition. He was even skinnier than usual and the furrows in Vin's face showed a distinct lack of caring for himself. And the irate look on his sniper's face ensured Orrin he'd better take command of the situation swiftly.
Pushing past Vin without a word, he walked over to the bar and poured himself a Scotch. Bringing it to his lips, he glanced around at the apartment. He saw that Vin had been in front of the television, though probably not watching it judging by the program that was currently on: Trading Spaces.
"I don't want to talk," Vin told the older man, returning to his seat in the easy chair.
"You don't have to," Travis responded. "I'll talk." He made himself comfortable in the couch across from Vin. He swirled the liquor around in his glass before lifting it up to take a sip. Orrin held the glass on his lap as he started to reminisce. "She was beautiful, your mother. I remember the first time I saw her." Vin didn't say anything, but Orrin could tell he was listening intently. "I was only 20 years old and she was about five, I'd say. She was running around the Country Club garden, refusing to listen when her mother told her to behave. Even back then she was headstrong.
"She loved music. Do you remember her playing the piano?" Travis didn't wait for the young man to answer. He continued, "You used to run around the piano while she played, blowing on that harmonica your dad gave to you."
Vin unconsciously patted the pocket in which he carried the harmonica. Still, after all these years, it remained one of his most prized possessions.
"She loved your father dearly. When she looked at Joshua, there was nothing but love and affection shining in her eyes... I never knew why your grandparents couldn't see that." Travis regaled him with a few more memories before falling silent. He took a few more sips of his drink. He hoped Vin would feel comfortable enough to talk to him; he wasn't disappointed.
"I need a favor." Vin sounded as if the request was being ripped out of him physically.
"Name it."
"I have to find out the name of the man who shared a cell with Tandy, the man who killed him. And I need to talk to him."
Travis studied his young charge. "On one condition: I get to go there with you."
After a short pause, a whispered, "Okay," sealed the deal.
0900 hours, Wednesday
Exeter County Prison
If the woman at the counter recognized Vin, she showed no sign. Vin announced that they would like to see Grant Beatty. She nodded, typing the information into the computer. When she frowned, Vin worried that something had happened to Beatty, the last link he had to Tandy. But she merely typed some more and then nodded toward a set of blue-painted doors. He mentally thanked Travis for getting him in so fast. It still amazed him what people with money could do.
"Go through there and wait for the officer to escort you to the appropriate visitor's block."
"Thanks, ma'am." He and Orrin followed her directions and were ushered to a cubicle. Vin sat in the chair and looked through the mesh grating while Travis remained standing behind him. Both men twitched nervously while trying valiantly to remain calm on the outside. After ten minutes, a squat redheaded man entered on the other side.
He eyed the visitors curiously, settling his gaze on Vin. "Do I know you, kid?"
"My name's Vin Tanner. I got a letter from William Tandy and figured I should talk to you."
"Yeah, poor Billy boy. Shame what 'appened to him."
"Didn't you happen to him?"
"Yep, damn shame." He lowered his head in mock remorse.
"Who paid you?"
"I don' know whacha mean. I just got tired of Billy's whinin'."
"Bullshit! Who hired you?"
"Well," the convict drawled, "I might be able to tell you something."
Vin couldn't contain his eagerness. "Tell me."
"Twenty thousand."
"What?"
"I want $20,000." Beatty had seen that eagerness and hoped to profit from it.
"I don't have that kinda money."
"I do," Travis said, stepping forward. "Tell him what he wants to know and I'll deposit the money into any account you wish."
"How do I know I kin trust you?" The convict squinted, eyeing the older man through the divider.
Vin slammed his fists on the desk in front of him. He roared, "You tell me or I swear I'll come straight through this wire and tear your tongue out!"
The billionaire placed a restraining hand on Vin's shoulder, in order to keep him calm so they would not be thrown out.
Something convinced the convict -- either Travis' assurance or Tanner's threat -- because Beatty said, "All I know is his name's Burke."
"First or last?"
"Last I think -- I only heard the name once. Don't really 'member the first."
"Was it Edgar?" Vin asked in a raspy whisper.
"Yeah." Beatty nodded and smiled. "Yeah, that was it."
Travis watched Vin's face drain of all color. The name meant nothing to the older man, but obviously it was recognized.
Vin quickly stood, shaky but upright. "I'll meet you outside," he said quietly and then he was gone.
Travis turned to the man inside the cage. "You'll get your money."
"I'm tellin' ya, someone wanted that dude dead." Grant Beatty shook his head in false regret. "Billy boy was willin' to take a fall for eight years and they kilt him anyways."
Travis turned and left the facility. Out front he looked around to see how Vin was doing only to find him gone. He walked over to his car and leaned into the window.
"Where's Tanner?" he asked his driver.
"He took off like a bat out of hell," his driver replied, pointing at the exit.
The billionaire cursed the fact that Vin had driven separately. He sighed as he got in the back of his car and picked up the phone. Time to tell Chris that he'd lost Vin.
~~*+*~~~*+*~~~*+*~~
As soon as Travis told them about Vin's hasty departure, Chris and the team were on the phone to locate the missing man.
Josiah was the first to report in with something substantial. He had contacted an old friend in the Albuquerque Police Department. "They found his car at the airport, but have no record of him flying out. I'm guessing he paid cash and went under an assumed name."
"What about video?"
"With all the extra security requirements, the airport officials don't have any people to spare. When I used Travis' name, they said we could look ourselves."
"Buck?"
"On it."
"Take Ezra. JD?"
"Yeah, Chris?"
"I want you to get on that magic box of yours and find out all you can about Edgar Burke. I want to know everything about him from his shoe size to whether or not he eats tofu."
"Yes, sir."
"Josiah?"
"Yes?"
Chris lowered his voice. "How bad do you think this is?"
"I can't say for sure," Josiah hedged.
"Guess."
"I don't like the fact he left us out of the loop. I think he's utterly focused on this crusade and I don't know if common sense or his own code of ethics will control him."
"What's that mean?"
"He might do something dangerous. Either to himself or those he believes responsible for his father's death."
Chris swore loudly.
"Couldn't have said it better myself."
"JD," Larabee called, "you got anything?"
"Chris, it's only been a few minutes. It's gonna take me a little time, I'm sorry."
"No, I'm sorry. Keep doing what you're doing. Nathan, I want you to get the plane prepped. Once we know where he went we're going after him and bringing him home."
1600 hours, Wednesday
Stanton Residence, Massachusetts
Vin stared out the window as the taxi drove past the country club, through the exclusive residential area, and up the driveway. When it parked in front of his grandparent's house, he got out and looked up at the manor. He had never thought he would see the day when he'd willingly return to this place. When he left six years ago, he vowed to never come back. But he had unfinished business to take care of.
After paying for the ride, he watched the taxicab drive down the winding drive. He turned away from the retreating taxi, walked up, and rang the doorbell. Within moments the door opened and a woman in a uniform looked over him with evident distaste. "Yes? May I help you?" she asked.
Vin didn't recognize her from the time he lived there. "Tell the Stantons' their grandson is here."
A small show of surprise flashed on the woman's face as she stepped back to let him in. It was clear she didn't want to, but couldn't risk insulting the man if his claim were true. "Please wait here." She gestured to a room he remembered to be the front sitting room, a common place to greet visitors.
Vin went into the room and wandered around. His eyes lit on a picture of his mother as a teenager. He smiled at her happy expression. He looked around the room and noticed many pictures of Caroline Stanton Tanner at various ages of life. Interspersed were photographs of Vin up to five years old. Then they skipped ahead to when he lived there. He wrinkled his nose in aversion at the picture of him at his high school graduation with a shorn head and a sharp suit. He'd left the next day.
"Vin." A soft voice called from the doorway. He turned to look at his grandmother, Elizabeth. She could never be thought of as a "grandma." Her hair was much greyer than it had been the last time he'd seen her and her face carried more lines. She wore an obviously expensive sweater set complete with pearl necklace, a picture of elegance and class.
"Ma'am." He nodded at her, but remained on the other side of the room.
"No need to be so formal." Her smile was tentative but warm. "It's good to see you."
Vin waited without speaking. Now that he was here and ready for the confrontation, he didn't quite know what to say.
His silence seemed to worry the older woman. "I'm having Teresa bring us some tea. Are you hungry? I could have Cook fix you something." She glided forward and sat down on an armchair.
"No, ma'am." Vin looked harder at her. He must be wrong. She couldn't have had anything to do with what happened.
"All right, then. George is on his way home. He was playing at the club, so I called and told him you'd returned."
The longhaired man showed no reaction to her words.
"He should be home in a few minutes," Elizabeth added.
Vin finally shook himself out of his self-imposed stupor. "Edgar still work for y'all?"
Confusion furrowed her brow. "Yes, of course, he's been very devoted. Why do you ask?"
"Wondering if he'd taken any trips lately."
Her confusion remained as she answered, "He took a personal day on Friday. His sister had taken ill."
"That so?" Vin walked around the couch to stand near the window.
"Vin, please. Can you tell me what's wrong?"
"I miss my father."
The bold statement and unexpected statement threw the woman aback. Her eyes wide, she looked at him with an expression coming close to fear or panic.
"I see you haven't learned to dress properly, young man." George Stanton announced as he came in the room. "Jeans and an old leather jacket is no way to make a suitable impression."
Vin backed up slightly from the newcomer, taking refuge behind a chair. "I figure I make whatever impression people take."
"And still a smart mouth."
"Yes, sir."
"What are you doing here, boy?" George demanded. "Has hell finally frozen over?"
"He was asking about Edgar, dear," supplied his wife.
Vin noticed the look exchanged between the married couple. "I was jus' wondering how long you thought you'd keep it a secret."
"I have no idea what you are talking about."
"My father, Joshua."
"What about him?"
The blue eyes pierced through the other man's seemingly calm façade. Vin raged. "You had him killed."
~~*+*~~~*+*~~~*+*~~
Chris' cell rang. "Larabee."
Buck's voice came over the line. "We found out what flight he took. He went to Massachusetts."
"What the hell is there?"
"I don't know, pard. You might want to ask JD." Wilmington knew as well as Chris that the ex-cyber-detective would have more background about Vin.
"Will do. You get back here; we'll need to leave ASAP. And Buck?"
"Yeah?"
"Good job."
Larabee closed the cell phone and walked into the next room where his youngest team member was hunched over the computer. "You find anything yet?"
He noticed JD's hands weren't dancing across the keyboard. In fact, Dunne was staring at the monitor.
"JD, what is it? JD!" he called louder to get the boy's attention.
"I found him," the computer expert reported softly. "I found Edgar Burke."
"That's great. What's the problem?"
"He works for George and Elizabeth Stanton... Vin's grandparents."
Chris' eyebrows shot up. He hadn't seen that coming, and he hated surprises.
"I decided to look back through my files I'd kept while on the job," JD continued. "And the name popped up almost immediately."
"And they live in Massachusetts," Chris stated.
"Yeah," Dunne said, looking at his boss in amazement. "Babson Park."
"Get packed... all the essentials. As soon as everyone returns we're out of here."
JD nodded, hurrying to follow the order.
Chris watched JD leave and slammed his fist into the nearest wall. He started walking the length of the room. Vin wouldn't do anything crazy, would he? Chris didn't want to face the answer. Right now the sniper wasn't thinking clearly, running on anger and adrenaline. He knew that if Vin did anything in the heat of the moment he'd never be able to forgive himself.
Entering the ranch house, Nathan spotted his leader pacing. "No word yet?" he asked, looking around for JD and the others.
"We're going to Massachusetts. Everything ready?"
"Plane's ready when you are," Jackson said. "I'll get my supplies." Chris nodded absently as the medic left the room. He flexed his bruised fist, getting the circulation flowing as he went in search of their foreman, Francis Corcoran, to let him know they'd be leaving for an unspecified time.
~~*+*~~~*+*~~~*+*~~
He tried to listen to their explanations and excuses but all he could hear was a dull roaring in his ears. All the way out here -- on the flight, in the taxi -- he'd told himself it couldn't be. It wasn't possible. That his own family, Christ! the mother of his ma, could've murdered his father. Yet here they were admitting it.
Years of festering pain and anguish erupted from Vin as he stood there listening. They weren't asking for forgiveness. They weren't asking for understanding. The horror that they'd done didn't seem to matter. "Shut up!" he yelled, cutting off his grandfather.
"How dare you shout at me," Stanton snapped, "after all we've done for you."
"You took away my life!" Vin screamed at him.
"We tried to give you a better one."
"Better than having a father?"
"He was immoral," George continued, adamantly. "He stole our daughter from us and then he took you, too. You were too young to remember."
"Not that young," Vin countered. "The last thing Mama ever said to me was, 'Boy, you're a Tanner. Don't you ever forget that'." Vin looked at his grandparents in disgust. "I think that was her way of telling me you people are nothing to me." He turned and started to march from the room.
George shot forward, grabbed Vin's arm, and swung him around. "Now you wait just a minute. We are still your flesh and blood."
The enraged young man shook his arm free. "Any blood I shared with you was spilled from my father's broken body and washed away."
Elizabeth didn't want to see her family torn apart; she tried to placate her grandson. "What's done is done. We thought it was for your own good. I'm sorry it had to happen, but no advantage can be had by fighting."
"If you ever come near me again I will kill you, make no mistake about that." Vin's voice contained nothing but hatred. "I'm reporting everything I know to the authorities. Let's hope your money can buy you a way out of the mess you've created." He stormed out, letting his fury carry him outside.
Once he was walking down the driveway he belatedly realized the taxi he'd ridden in was gone. Too upset to try to think of another solution, he started to walk. He barely remembered how he got here. The airport was a blur; the fact that he carried no luggage had raised an eyebrow, but since "traveling light" was not illegal, he had been able to get a flight out immediately.
When he'd landed in Massachusetts, he had snagged the first cab in line outside the airport and barked out the Stanton's address. The closer he got to their house the more apprehensive he'd become. What if they were responsible? What would he do? What could he do?
Now he knew the answer... but he had no idea how to deal with the knowledge.
He continued to wander down the sidewalk, unaware of anything, including the car coming up fast behind him. It skidded into Vin, sideswiping him and then speeding away.
The young man flew through the air, landing painfully on the grass, knocking the breath from his body. He was achingly aware of someone screaming and someone else yelling, "Call 911!"
The voices faded as he tried to take a breath. All his energy was quickly focused inward as the agony intensified and became all-consuming. He cried aloud as someone touched his arm and he feebly attempted to brush them away. Whatever else he might have felt was lost as he drifted into nothingness.
2215 hours, Wednesday
Stanton Residence, Massachusetts
Six anxious and worried men arrived at the Stanton residence and Chris stepped forward, pounding on the door.
A small woman wearing a black dress with a white apron opened the door, certainly made wary by the violent beating. "May I help you gentlemen?" she asked.
Chris didn't bother with niceties, pushing past her. "Where's Vin?"
A large man emerged from a connecting room, a foul countenance displayed. "Who are you to barge into my house and make demands?" He dismissed the housekeeper with a wave.
"George Stanton?" The man nodded and Chris continued, "We're friends of Vin." He quickly introduced everyone; the names flew out fast and furiously.
"Is Vin here?" Josiah asked, trying in vain to keep the situation civilized.
"No," said Elizabeth Stanton. She stood in an adjacent doorway, wringing her hands. "We had words and he stormed out hours ago."
The ringing of Chris' cell phone stalled any response. "Larabee."
An Irish burr came over the line. "Chris, it's Francis."
Chris could only think of one reason why he would be calling. "Did you hear from Vin?"
"In a way. I just got a call from Mercy Medical in Wellesley, Massachusetts... he's been admitted."
"What?! How is he?"
"They wouldn't say much except he's banged up pretty bad. You'd better get over there."
"Thanks, Francis. We're on our way." He closed his cell and turned to the Stantons. "Where's Mercy Medical?"
"It's over on Graham in Wellesley," George answered. "Why?"
"Vin is there."
The roomful of people showed various levels of shock, and began to shoot rapid-fire questions at Larabee. He raised his hand for silence and told them what little he knew. "We need to get to the hospital."
"You can follow us," Stanton declared. He grabbed his jacket and escorted his wife to the garage.
2300 hours, Wednesday
Mercy Medical Center
The Stantons apparently were smart enough not to get in Larabee's way. They let themselves be placed in the background as the man in black demanded information from the nurse at the desk. Unfortunately, no amount of bluster from Chris or charm from Ezra could get them any information on Vin's condition.
"I will send out his doctor as soon as he's able," the head nurse told Chris firmly. "Right now he is busy trying to save your friend's life."
The group had made quite a scene when they arrived en masse and attracted the attention of everyone in the waiting area.
"Excuse me, are you here for Vin Tanner?"
Chris turned at the voice to find a policeman standing behind him, notebook poised in his hand. There was another cop standing beyond. "Yes," Chris said, "is there something I can do for you?"
"I'd like a word with you, all of you, if you have the time."
"Of course," Nathan said. "Until the doctors are done with Vin we have nothing but time."
The two policemen, introducing themselves as Officers Tully and Winston, maneuvered the team and Vin's grandparents into a separate, empty room.
Officer Tully took point, asking the questions. "What is your relationship to Mr. Tanner?"
"He works for me," Chris answered easily, "and we are all his friends." His hand encompassed the rest of the team.
Stanton spoke up. "I am his grandfather, George Stanton, and this is my wife, Elizabeth. We are Vin's family."
Chris refrained from making a comment at that, but his anger shone.
The officer jotted down notes as he continued. "Do you know of anyone who would want to harm Mr. Tanner?"
"That's nonsense," burst in George. "Why would anyone want to hurt my grandson?"
"That's what we are trying to determine, Mr. Stanton," Officer Winston said. "Mr. Tanner was walking along Oak Street when a Lincoln Towncar swerved to hit him and then took off."
Mrs. Stanton stepped forward. "Are you certain it wasn't an accident?"
"Yes, ma'am. Witnesses confirm it was deliberate."
"Any idea who was driving?" Josiah asked.
Tully looked in his notebook. "We got a partial plate: 78G. They are trying to track down possibles now."
Elizabeth Stanton gave a small gasp and reached toward her husband for support. The action was not lost on Standish.
"Is there something you know about this, Mrs. Stanton?" he asked.
"Of course not," answered George before she could speak. He turned to the police officers. "I demand you stop asking questions of us and go find out who did this!"
"We are doing all we can, sir. We take attempted murder very seriously."
Elizabeth could no longer contain her emotions and started to sob silently, clinging to her husband.
"If you come up with anything, feel free to give us a call," Officer Winston said, handing Chris a card and pointedly ignoring the Stantons.
"Thank you very much, officers." Josiah followed the two out, making sure they'd gotten everything they needed.
The room went quiet when they left, everyone thinking of who might have wanted Vin dead.
"I guess there's nothing to do but wait," JD finally mused aloud.
"Not quite," Chris said. "Get on your laptop and see if anyone that Vin caught as a bounty hunter has been recently released."
"Yes, sir."
~~*+*~~~*+*~~~*+*~~
"Chris."
JD's voice cut through Larabee's introspection. He lifted his head to see a doctor coming toward the group. They'd returned to the waiting room, and had been waiting -- not so patiently -- for over an hour. Chris stood to greet the doctor, and the Stantons stepped forward as well.
"You are here for Vin Tanner?" queried the physician.
"Yes."
"I'm Dr. Hasbrosinski, I've been treating Mr. Tanner." He shook hands with Chris and George and nodded to the rest of the group.
"How is he?" Josiah asked.
"Lucky, very lucky," the doctor replied. "From what I've heard, if the car had hit him dead on and not from the side, your friend probably would not have made it. As it is, he has numerous broken bones: his left wrist, his left leg, and four ribs. He has a severe concussion and deep bruising all over his body. He will have to stay in the hospital for a couple days, and will have some rehab after that, but he should make a full recovery."
"Ooh-wee!" yelled Buck. "I'm tellin' ya, that boy has more lives than a cat!"
Josiah sent up a prayer while Nathan thanked the doctor. Ezra and JD smiled, relief and happiness painted on their faces, and Chris silently thanked God for letting him keep his family for a bit longer.
~~*+*~~~*+*~~~*+*~~
A few hours later, Chris was standing inside the door to Vin's private room. He shook his head at the amount of wires and equipment attached to his friend. The heart monitor beeped steadily, the IV dripped. Luckily Vin's lungs were undamaged and wouldn't be forced onto a respirator. Underneath the bandages and plaster was his best friend, and Chris guiltily thought there was something he should've done to prevent this.
He walked over to the side of the bed, careful not to touch Vin, fearful of causing him more pain, even when unconscious. His left arm was in a cast from the elbow to the hand because his wrist was fractured in two places.
Knowing that the nurses would kick him out soon, Chris sat down and began to speak. "Hey, Slick. Looks like you really stepped in it this time, eh?"
There was no reaction from the unconscious man. That didn't stop Chris from talking to him.
"Everyone is waiting to see those baby blues. JD is driving Josiah crazy, Buck is hitting on every nurse, and Ezra lost two hands of cards to Nathan, so you know he's upset." Chris snorted. "Your grandparents are here, too, although I'm not sure if that's a comfort or not." He suspected that the Stantons knew more than they were willing to admit. He'd find out sooner or later.
"I give us about another hour before we get kicked out of the hospital, so waking up would be a plus. You could talk to the doctor and tell him--"
"Y'know," interrupted a tired voice, "some people are tryin' to sleep." Vin cleared his throat, and gradually opened his eyes.
Chris smiled widely, jolting up straight. "You're awake!"
"Yep." Vin's voice cracked. "Could I...?" He motioned to his throat.
"Oh, yeah." Chris got him some water, letting him drink a few sips. "How you feeling?"
"Like I got hit by a bus. What happened?"
"You got hit by a car." Larabee nearly laughed when Vin rolled his eyes. "You were very lucky."
"Don't feel that way right now." Vin tried to shift and groaned as his wrapped ribs protested the movement.
"Don't move around," Chris told him.
"Yeah," Vin panted, "I kinda figured that part out m'self." He couldn't see the extent of his injuries from his reclined position. "How bad?"
"Broken wrist, broken leg, concussion, and you're gonna be a beautiful display of bruises tomorrow."
"Shit," he breathed. "Am I gonna be okay?" Vin's voice quavered slightly.
Chris was quick to reassure him. "With a little PT, you'll be springing cartwheels in no time."
Vin smiled slightly and relaxed, knowing his best friend would never lie about something like that. His reprieve was short-lived as Larabee decided to unload some of the worry and frustration he'd been carrying around.
"Can you tell me why you're such a dumbass?" Chris asked bluntly. "Why didn't you wait for us? We would've come with you, but instead you take off on your own." He got up and started to pace around the room. "Don't you realize you're part of a team, a family?"
"I don't know what I was thinking," Vin admitted. "Or even if I was thinkin'. I just reacted."
"You reacted by taking off!"
"It's what I'm best at," yelled Vin, straining his voice. He fell back against the bed with a grimace.
Chris calmed down when he noticed the nurse headed his way, clearly intending on saving her patient from distress. "All right, I'll let you off the hook for now. But we are definitely going to discuss this when you're feeling better."
Vin yawned and nodded. "No problem, boss. Anytime." He dropped his head to the side and drifted off to sleep.
The blond nodded as the nurse motioned for him to leave. "Glad to have you back, Tanner," he whispered on his way out.
~~*+*~~~*+*~~~*+*~~
Vin woke up to the feeling of someone caressing his cheek. He pried his eyes open and saw Elizabeth Stanton gazing down at him.
When she saw him wake, she smiled shyly, and said, "Hello, Vin."
He frowned in confusion and asked, "What are you doing here?"
Her smile disappeared and she drew her hand back from his face. "We came to make sure you were okay." She motioned to her husband and he stepped forward. "And also to apologize."
The injured man remained silent, waiting.
"I'm afraid it was Edgar who ran into you."
"Really." Vin's voice remained a monotone.
"Dear Edgar. He thought he was protecting us." Elizabeth shook her head mournfully.
George looked down at his grandson uneasily. "He overheard your threat and was determined to keep you from following through. We had no idea."
Vin looked at the people who were supposed to be his family. "Would you have stopped him?"
The two older people were stunned by the scornful tone. "I guess we deserve that," Elizabeth admitted.
"And did you have him kill Tandy? Finish your dirty work for ya?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Dear Edgar paid Tandy's cellmate to make sure he never left prison."
Elizabeth shook her head in denial, and George's stone face faltered.
"That's not true," he whispered.
"It is true." Vin turned his face away from them. "You need to go." He refused to look at them, focusing on a landscape print on the opposite wall.
Elizabeth and George exchanged a look of sorrow.
"We're going straight to the police station to turn ourselves in," she told him. "We just wanted to say goodbye." She reached out and touched Vin on the hand, not surprised when he pulled it away.
"Goodbye, my boy," George managed to get out as he looked at his grandson, broken because of his actions. "I am sorry," he choked out as he escorted his wife out.
The door closed behind them and only then did Vin look in that direction. But he could summon no tears for the loss of his grandparents; he'd already lost too much. He closed his eyes and let the drugs send him to sleep.
At last, his sleep was dreamless.
~~*+*~~~*+*~~~*+*~~
When he woke next, Chris was in the chair next to his bed, pretending to read the latest Cosmo.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey, yourself. Leastways you're sounding better."
"Learn anything?" Vin asked, nodding at the magazine.
"I found out five ways to seduce a man," Chris said, grinning.
"You just stay on your side of the room, buddy."
They stayed wrapped in a comfortable silence. Chris let his friend decide when he was ready to talk. After a few minutes Chris thought Vin had drifted off to sleep when the younger man whispered, "They're gone."
"I know."
"It's finally over."
"That it is."
Vin turned to lock eyes with his best friend, his brother. "I still miss him."
"That feeling won't ever go away completely."
"Great, something to look forward to. They even admit to having him killed 'for my own good.' What a family tree, huh?" Vin said, derisively. "Makes me want to hang m'self from it."
"All families have problems."
Vin was incredulous. "Like this?"
"Okay, maybe not quite like this," Chris admitted.
"I want to go home," the patient stated with quiet intensity. He yawned, struggling to stay awake long enough to get his point across.
"Just waiting for the doc's okay," Chris told him as he patted Vin's good leg. "You'll be fine."
"I know." Vin smiled. As he started to drift off to sleep, he mumbled, "I have the support of my real family."
1300 hours, Sunday
Vin's houseboat, SS Bounty
Chris smiled as he watched Vin clomp out onto his dock. His friend was still moving gingerly, healing from the multitude of injuries he'd gotten the previous week.
Nathan had wanted Vin to stay at the main house with the rest of them until he was healed, but Vin would have none of that. He told them straight out that he would heal faster on the boat. No one believed him, but after all he'd been through, none of them wanted to force him to do anything. They decided they'd simply take turns stopping by. The young man's leg was broken low enough that he had a walking cast. He could do most everything himself, but Nathan was still wary of him staying on a boat while his balance was off. Chris wasn't worried; Vin's natural grace would shine through even in the two casts.
The Stantons had pled guilty for Conspiracy to Commit Murder. It came with a sentence of 20 years to life, but Larabee figured with all their money they'd be able to plea bargain down. They had also hired a lawyer for Edgar Burke, who was looking at more serious charges. The driver showed his faithful dedication to the Stantons, accepting all the blame for Tandy's murder and Vin's "accident."
While still in the hospital, Vin had talked to Orrin and, with Travis' lawyers, set up a scholarship in his mother's name to a music academy using the money from his trust. He told Chris that he'd needed to use their money to help people, and this way others would remember her.
Larabee followed Vin onto the boat and stood, watching his friend try to settle in. He noticed Vin eying him with a sly smile. "What?"
"We're friends, ain't we?" he asked, leaning against the rail of his boat.
"The best," Chris answered without hesitation.
Vin stood with his arms spread wide.
"What are you doing?" Chris asked, raising a brow in suspicion.
"I think I need a hug."
If his friend was feeling cheerful enough to yank his chain, Chris knew he'd be fine. "Fuck off, Tanner."
The ex-bounty hunter cackled, knowing things were back as they should be.
the end.
