1420 EST; 1220 MST
"Nothing." The FBI agent shoved the papers into Danny's hands. "I'm sorry."
"Hopewell tried to kill her," Buck exclaimed. "You gotta have something on
"We know Hopewell has it in for her," the FBI agent replied in an exasperated
tone. "We're tracking him. But even if he has ordered a hit, nothing else
points to him in this disappearance case."
"What do you think," Danny ordered.
"In all honesty, I don't think it's Hopewell."
SAME TIME (1420 EST; 1220 MST)
NEW YORK CITY
Jack penned in another timeslot on the timeline and put the marker down.
He stood staring at the photo of the woman and her little boy before a voice
startled him out of his thoughts.
"Samantha told me about Mary's new project. You ask Larabee about James yet?"
Vivian asked quietly.
"No, not yet."
"I think you should. He might remember something random about James that
we don't have."
"What about James?" The two FBI agents looked up to see the black-clad ATF
agent standing in the doorway, the glass door slowly swinging to a shut behind
him. "What about James?" he repeated in his soft but dangerous voice.
Jack pressed his lips together before looking at the expectant expression
on his counterpart's face. "Did you know Mary had begun investigating him
Vivian shared an amused look with Jack as Chris began swearing up and down
about the fool woman who had to have some death wish. "I told her to stay
out of it," he finished with a growl.
"Agent Larabee," Vivian replied, "Mary's a reporter. This is her job."
Jack bowed his head to hide his smile at Vivian's chastising tone. She remained
wholly unfazed at the Larabee glare directed at her.
"She can stay out of this one and let us handle it."
"Agent Larabee, in case you haven't noticed, James is not involved in liquor,
cigarettes, or guns. He's not really a case under your jurisdiction. You
usually in the habit of stomping on other people's ground?"
"I'm in the habit of doing anything I want."
"Apparently, but please remember this is still a Missing Persons investigation."
Vivian was good. Jack considered that maybe she should be the one dealing
with the press.
"Can't seem to forget," Chris drawled in an annoyed tone.
"Did you know that Mary had started looking into James again?" Vivian held
out the folder.
"Didn't know. She didn't say anything." Chris took the papers Vivian handed
him and quickly scanned them, his face hardening. Jack and Vivian exchanged
looks. Chris finally tossed the small folder onto the table and swore softly.
He sucked in his cheeks a little bit before rubbing his temples with a tense
hand. "Billy said she was a little sad, but I--I thought it was because of
Jack and Vivian watched as he paced in a circle.
"What about James?" Jack finally spoke.
"She didn't tell me about it." Chris's eyes flickered to them briefly.
"We...had...words last time she brought me new information on James."
"When was this?"
"Couple months ago."
Larabee rubs his temples with a tense hand as he paces his office, thinking.
On his desk, a folder lies open with a report on top.
There's a knock at the door.
"I'm busy!" Chris hollers, annoyed.
"Sorry," says a soft, feminine voice on the other side. "I'll come back
Chris crosses the room in one swift step and opens the door. "Mary, come
"Chris, if you're--"
"I thought it was one of those brat busybodies from downstairs. Come
"What if one of the others has something to say to you?" Mary asks, somewhat
"They never knock." Chris smiles a little. "Have a seat." He waits for
Mary to sit. "So?"
"I have new information on James."
"Chris, hear me out," Mary interrupts. "This is a good lead. You don't
have to chase it down now. I know you have a case as it is, and besides,
Denver FBI research is looking into it for me. They might be able to turn
up something linking James--and most likely Royal--to Earl. This is the closest
we're going to get to nailing him."
"Mary, leave James to us," Chris replies shortly and turns away from
her, ending the discussion.
"Agent Larabee." Mary stands up angrily, her eyes spitting fire. "In
case you forgot, Earl tried to burn Billy and me and our neighbors out. Not
you! I am not going to become a victim and I'll fight anyone to make sure
that I don't. What will it look like to Billy--his mother is some coward?"
"At least he would have his mother," Chris retorts, spinning on his heel
to pin her her with stare. "James don't care about nothing or nobody but
himself and you know that. You get in his way, he'll walk through you. I'm
telling you to drop it and let the FBI and us handle it. Mary, James is not
your crusade. You don't need to prove anything to Stephen or to anyone
Mary presses her lips into a thin line, her face contorting. It's obvious
Chris has hit a nerve with his statement about Stephen. "Fine, if that's
the way you feel." She turns abruptly and starts out the door before turning
around. This time her voice lacks the hardness and anger of before. "You
should try your own advice, Chris."
Chris ignores her, and when he looks up, the door is closed and she is
"You didn't approve of her investigating?"
"I don't approve of her risking herself and Billy like that," Chris retorted.
"Look at this." He waved his hand vaguely.
"Have you fought like that before?"
Chris grimaced. "Couple times. But she usually never stops bringing us leads."
"Except this time."
"Probably because it has to do with Stephen." Chris slammed his palm against
the table. "Does she not think we'll help her?"
Vivian rocked on her feet for a moment and then said quietly, "Agent Larabee,
I have a personal question to ask you and I want you to answer it as truthfully
as you can. In your search for the killers of your wife and your son, have
you ever allowed Mary into your confidence?"
Chris turned an ice cold look to her. "That's my business."
"Well, that answers the question." Vivian looked exasperated. "Does James
know that Mary is not privy to your search?"
Chris frowned. "Why does this matter?"
"Let's say James knows about Mary's latest information," Vivian began. "He
also figures out that because it's personal Mary won't say anything about
it, particularly after that last conversation."
"Mary came to us with information about Stephen when Billy ran away," Chris
"Well let's try this," Jack cut in, slightly annoyed. "Did you know that
in the year after her husband's death Mary quit an investigative reporter's
job at the Denver Post? Did you know that she joined the Clarion
only after some convincing? Did you know that her new position offered her
more money and more time...which she apparently blew on a private investigator?"
Chris opened his mouth and then shut it.
"And then there's the fact that Earl attacked the neighborhood only when
your team was temporarily disbanded and scattered," Vivian added.
"I got the bad feeling that James knew all this," Jack muttered.
"You're saying that he's going after them now because he knows that Mary's
got information on him and that we don't know about it or the fact
that she's got it," Chris clarified.
"That's the idea."
"So now that we know...."
"If what you say is true about keeping those two alive if he can be linked
to their disappearance, we'll make sure he knows that."
1549 EST; 1349 MST
"Mr. James," Danny warned.
"Look, Mr. Taylor. You obviously aren't from around here. That family's got
those seven men--" he glared at the three ATF agents "--watching over it.
Went up against 'em once, ain't in a hurry to do it again. 'Sides, I don't
fancy the blood of women and children on my hands." James glared at Danny.
"Then give us anything you know," Buck growled.
"I don't know anything."
Vin jumped forward and grabbed James. Danny was surprised at the strength
emanating from the small, spare man as the agent hauled James to his feet.
"I'm about ta land ya in a shallow grave. Now you best tell us where the
Travises are and where we kin find 'em."
"I'm telling ya, I don't know anything." James pushed off Tanner's hands
and straightened his collar. "I ain't talked to my New York contacts in two
SAME TIME (1549 EST; 1349 MST)
NEW YORK CITY
"So the Donetti ring's out." Jack crossed off the name with a frustrated flourish.
"Jack, we got to keep trying," Vivian countered as she looked up from her report.
"We'll find something."
Jack sighed. "Hopefully in time."
Vivian smiled a little. "Getting really attached to the Judge, huh."
Jack smiled. "Grows on you."
"And Team 7?"
Jack shrugged. "They're all right."
Vivian smiled. "Admit it. You like Larabee."
Jack laughed outright. "Vivian, don't tell me you wouldn't respect a man
who runs a team with three sets of Danny and Martin."
Vivian chuckled. "And I thought just those two were bad."
"Definitely keep life interesting."
1625 EST; 1425 MST
MAXIMUM SECURITY PRISON
"So share." Danny crossed his arms at the shackled prisoner.
"Ain't got nothing to share."
"Well, you share, and you'll have a nice single cell. Don't want to end up
with a bad cellmate, you know." Danny smirked. "'Specially one who tries
to quiet down the noise with a heavy pillow."
The prisoner only looked at him.
"What do you want?" Danny asked.
"Single cell plus a job in the library."
"All right. But first I see your information's any good."
"What do you want to know?"
"Yes, apparently. Enough to get herself in trouble with anyone? Stuart James,
maybe? Clayton Hopewell? Anyone else?"
"James ain't stupid. Everyone knows what kinda devil Larabee is. No one touches
nothin' of Larabee's and lives to see the next mornin'. That 'cludes his
boys and that woman and her boy."
Danny coughed, trying to smother a chuckle. "Didn't know she was his."
The prisoner smirked. "Ya ain't from Denver, are ya."
Danny ignored him. "Not James. Anyone else?"
Danny's eyes darted up to the prisoner's face. "Hopewell. Ex-governor."
"Just renewed the hit on Mary Travis."
Danny nodded. "Why?"
"He hired the Stutzes but they both died on the job. After that, no one was
real eager to work for him. And 'sides, once he got voted down, he didn't
have the dough to hire. Just came up with enough two months ago."
Danny nodded. "Anyone else?"
Danny stood up. "You've earned your single cell, my man." He nodded to the
warden and headed out to see the three ATF agents. "You not telling me something
here?" His face broke into a trademark grin.
"Didn't know ole cowboy were so warm and fuzzy," Tanner snickered, an evilly
mischievous glint in his eye. "'Bout us or the Travises."
Buck shrugged, trying not to laugh. "Chris says there's nothing going on
'tween 'em," he tried, which promptly set Tanner off into more chuckles.
"Well, as was stated before," the Southerner drawled, "a rumor need not be
substantiated to be true."
Danny smiled in spite of himself.
SAME TIME (1625 EST; 1425 MST)
NEW YORK CITY
"Jack, he doesn't exist," Samantha said as she hurried down the sidewalk,
dodging pedestrians. "The cab driver used a false name. And the address he
registered? It's the house of the local rabbi. I just checked with the rabbi.
He's had a continuing problem with identity theft starting four years ago."
"So the cab driver's in on it."
"Run it down and see what you find."
"Got it." Samantha snapped her phone closed and paused before taking a side
1735 EST; 1535 MST
"...and I quote, ' No one touches nothin' of Larabee's and lives to see the
next mornin'. That 'cludes his boys and that woman and her boy.'" Behind
him, three men burst into more laughter.
Over the phone, Danny heard a soft chuckle and then a quick clearing of the
throat. He could almost see Martin trying to look serious. "Okay, got it.
That's good," came the very serious voice.
Danny paused for a moment in puzzlement and then grinned. "Larabee in the
"Yeah. Think he'll have my head on a platter if he finds out what you just
said," came the low whisper.
"Hopewell renewed the order for a hit on Mary Travis, though." Danny paused
as Martin vented a little. "Yeah, that's what I said." He sighed. "Hopewell's
got ties to New York, I bet. But Denver doesn't think it's Hopewell."
"Stuff JD and Nate and Josiah's dregging up doesn't seem to indicate Hopewell
either." There was a pause. "Jack said Sam just called in. Cab driver was
a fake. False name."
Danny sighed and leaned back into his chair. "If that's all, Fitz?"
"Actually, there's something else." Danny heard the chair squeak and figured
Martin was now leaning over, elbows resting on his knees, as he did whenever
he had something important but private to say.
"I've been...looking into Standish."
"You? Mr. Give-him-another-chance?"
"Four years ago I remember my father mentioning a FBI agent being set up
and having to take the fall for something. I called him when we found out
about the team, and he just returned my call an hour or so ago."
"Ezra Standish was in Atlanta with the FBI. He's a wild card type, you know."
Danny snorted and muttered, "No wonder he fits in."
A chuckle came over the line. "A bust didn't go quite as planned, and it
appeared that someone had given the guys the drop on the FBI agents there.
Standish got blamed. His contact was asked to testify--supposedly against
his will--and admitted that Standish did seem to be inordinately accurate
about all his information.
"The report came out, and although the charges weren't confirmed, Standish
got slapped with a bad rep. The investigators, though, seem to think that
someone else is to blame. Someone higher up--and Standish took the fall for
him. Standish's contact, for one, still doesn't believe he did it, but he
was young at the time and no one really believed him."
Danny's eyes narrowed a little. "Go on," he said quietly.
"Atlanta drummed him out of the FBI. The investigators came looking for my
father to see if he couldn't help them place Standish and his contact somewhere
else. They seemed pretty convinced that Standish was okay; the evidence was
just pretty damning."
"The contact got settled with CIA."
"They couldn't find anyone willing to take Standish. That's when Travis
approached the investigation team and told them that Larabee wanted Standish.
Travis wasn't too happy about it, but Larabee was really adamant. That's
how they got him."
Danny sat back in his chair. That made sense. These seven men were really
something else. Annoying, unconventional, and in short, more fit for an asylum
than the ATF, but they were really good....
"Oh, and in case you were wondering, Tanner is Standish's contact man. I
Danny could hear Martin grinning over the line, if that were possible. He
chuckled. "That explains a lot."
"Yeah, it does." There was some noise on the other end. "Look, I gotta run.
Keep us posted." The phone clicked off.
The dial tone rang loudly in Danny's ears as he just sat there, his phone
still to his ear. "Yeah." He dropped the phone back into the cradle and pressed
his lips together, still looking a little stunned at the information.
"Hey Taylor, you look depressed. Your girlfriend call to break up?" Buck
stopped in his trek across the office.
"Buck, get yer mind outta the gutter," hollered a voice from the kitchen.
"That's all ya ever think about."
"Well, how would you know, Junior? You're always in the kitchen lookin' for
more junk food."
"Mr. Wilmington, I believe your assertion regarding Mr. Tanner to be quite
correct. Mr. Tanner, however, has stated what most of us have taken for a
Vin emerged from the kitchen with a brownie. "So, what're we gonna do now?"
Buck wrinkled his nose. "Vin, how old are those?"
"They's Nettie's. She sent 'em over last week." Vin took a bite. "Ain't that
Danny shook his head. New York was looking really good.
1915 EST, 1715 MST
Samantha slid into the driver's seat. "It's been almost 48 hours."
"I know." Martin slammed the passenger's side door a little harder than usual.
Samantha started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. She waited
until they were on the road. "Something bothering you?"
"Besides the fact that some 8-year-old kid is getting way more than his share
of suffering?" Martin growled.
Samantha paused at the tone. "Yeah."
Samantha gave a small snort of disbelief but let it rest. They rode in silence
awhile, only the quite drone of the radio breaking the silence.
"You know," her teammate said quietly, "Vin is convinced he's a Tanner."
'Ah. So that's what it was.' Samantha figured the whole 'twin' thing was
going to come up soon. "And you?"
"Who knows." Martin snorted. "Would be interesting if I were adopted."
Samantha kept quiet.
"That would be something to see, how my father tries to explain this all
to me," he said sarcastically. "Wonder what he would say." Martin drummed
his fingers on the armrest, staring out the window.
Samantha briefly looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "What he would
say about the adoption or what he would say about Vin's long hair?" Samantha
asked, a hint of humor in her tone.
Martin snorted in amazement and looked over at his teammate just to see a
small grin on her face. He couldn't help his own smile in response to hers.
"That was a shocker." He shivered. "I had bowl cuts when I was a kid, but
nothing past the top of my ears. No way as long as that."
"Ladies in research seem to like it," Samantha laughed.
Martin looked at her, a teasing grin on his lips. "And you?"
"Vin's a nice, sweet guy. He's quiet and polite."
Martin snorted. "He's a cowboy."
Samantha chuckled. "If ya ain't figured that out yet, girls do like that."
"The cowboy thing?"
"Sure. Hero on a horse, sunset. What's not to like?"
"I can't believe I'm listening to this."
SAME TIME (1915 EST, 1715 MST)
"Standish." Danny stood in the doorway, his face a mask that any undercover
agent would have appreciated. "Got a minute?"
The FBI agent watched as the Southerner carefully set the coffeepot back
onto the burner and turned to look at him. Danny could feel clear green knives
cutting him open and dissecting his motives. "Of course, Mr. Taylor."
"I...behaved badly these past few days."
"You had reason to believe as you did," came the guarded answer.
"Perhaps, but I still behaved childishly." Danny looked at him steadily,
the unspoken apology hanging in the air between them.
Standish looked at him for a moment. A small smile crossed his lips, and
he nodded. Looking down at the full mug in his hands, he handed it to the
other agent. "Mr. Wilmington, fortunately, made the coffee this time."
2134 EST, 1934 MST
NEW YORK CITY
Jack watched as Orin and Evie Travis moved down the hall and back into the
waiting room. He knew Vivian had just talked to them again, pouring over
some last details that had popped up--namely, Mary's new information on James.
He put down the report that had just come in and dropped his glasses onto
his desk. He had missing children cases all the time. This wasn't any
different--at least, that's what he'd been telling himself.
He saw a flash of black pass by his door.
It had to be Larabee. Samantha wore black all the time, but Larabee really
Larabee had been tightly wound but still fairly calm during this past twenty-four
hours. The guilt-driven obsession that he perhaps had been the cause of something
like this--despite the logical conclusion that Mary Travis's investigative
articles was probably the trigger--was something Jack could easily sympathize
Jack could also see why Larabee was such an effective leader. The man's presence
held a rather overwhelming authority, and he simply seemed to "conquer" the
places he simply entered. His men were prepared to follow him to hell and
He saw someone run and then slide down the polished floor in the direction
Larabee had gone.
Had to be the kid. No one else would do that.
If Chris thought that jumping off a cliff would benefit the team, Jack was
sure the team would do it.
Then again, they probably had done that before.
SAME TIME (2134 EST, 1934 MST)
"Señorita Recillos, Daniel Taylor, whom we are assisting in this attempt
to locate Ms. Travis and Master Travis," Ezra introduced. "Mr. Taylor, Inez
Recillos. She runs this fine establishment."
"Señor Taylor," the stunning woman greeted. "Welcome to Denver."
Danny wondered if he had 'not from Denver' plastered on his forehead.
"We will be at our usual table. Mr. Wilmington and Mr. Tanner will be joining
"The usual for the three of you?"
"Señor Taylor?" Inez handed him a menu.
"Whatever he suggests." Danny nodded at Ezra and smiled at the pretty manager.
"Señor Taylor," Inez deadpanned, "Señor Standish suggests caviar
and champagne. If you are quite like the rest of us, you will not want that."
"Inez, you wound me." Ezra pretended mock hurt.
Inez laughed. "I bring you the special, that all right?"
Danny nodded with a grin. "Gracias."
Ezra led Danny over to a large round table. "Señorita Recillos is
quite a chef."
"Well hey there, Inez, darlin'! Did I ever tell ya yer eyes are as beautiful
as the Pacific Ocean? Well they--"
"My eyes are brown, Señor Wilmington. Señor Standish and Señor
Taylor are over there. Kindly join them."
"And Mr. Wilmington is persistent." Danny smirked as the two other agents
sat down at the table. "Ah Mr. Wilmington, yet unlucky again, I see." The
undercover agent smiled in amusement.
"Shut up, Ez. She can't hold out against ole Buck too long," Buck bragged,
wholly unperturbed by the previous incident. "If at first ya don't succeed,
try, try again."
"Try adding a coupla thousand 'try's to that." Vin smirked.
"Shut up, Junior."
"Have ya heard from New York?" Vin turned to Danny. Danny doubted Standish
had said anything to Tanner, but, like Martin said, few things got by the
man. Danny had no doubt that Vin somehow knew that the air between him and
Standish had been cleared.
"Yeah." Danny immediately sobered. "Quint Hartson's out, as are Donetti's boys. Seems
to us James is out, and there's no evidence for Hopewell. Doesn't look
good." He saw the undercover agent and the sniper's expressions turn hard
as they exchanged looks. "What?"
"Vin? Ez?" Buck turned to the two younger agents. "What is it?"
"Ella," Vin spat.
Buck slammed his fist down on the table.
"Ella Gaines, world's biggest bi--Inez." Buck quickly shut up.
Inez set four glasses of water down on the table. "Should I bring the usual
pitcher of beer over? Señor Standish, you want the scotch?"
Danny felt his heart tighten for a second. "Señorita Recillos, a club
soda for me, please," he said quietly but firmly.
He felt Ezra's green eyes on him, and then the Southern drawl: "Inez, the
"Two club sodas," Inez said carefully, having caught Ezra's look.
Danny turned intense eyes to Standish, who looked at him steadily before
speaking. "Considering the circumstances, Mr. Taylor, I think it wise that
we not drink," Standish said pointedly, his voice laced with the double meaning
of his words. "The investigation requires our sharpest faculties."
Buck looked awkwardly at the two agents and quietly indicated to Inez that
she should bring three.
"What you drink doesn't bother me," Danny said nonchalantly to Standish.
"Well, that's good," Vin snorted. There was a pause as two ATF agents turned
to him, shocked and a little annoyed. Danny guessed that Tanner was usually
more considerate. "'Cause I don't want that fancy club soda junk. Inez, could
I have a Mountain Dew, pl--"
"No way! No Mountain Dew for you, Junior," Buck exclaimed, jumping into Vin's
successful attempt to lighten the mood. "No more sugar. Turns ya into JD,
and Lord knows we only need one of him."
"Buck, stop motherin' me. Don't need ya ta--"
"Mr. Tanner, while I concur that I find myself likewise fleeing in horror
from Mr. Wilmington's rather boisterous attempts at what you call 'mothering,'
I must agree with Mr. Wilmington that...that Mountain Dew is not a good idea.
You must remember that the three of us must work near you after dinner."
"Hardy har." Vin was insulted.
Inez walked away, laughing.
Ezra nodded. "Now, about Ella."
Vin leaned forward. "We call JD, tell 'im to start trackin' her. No one else
Ezra nodded. "Especially not Mr. Larabee. Not yet."
Buck shook his head. "He'll be angry if'n he finds out ya been hidin' stuff
"We certainly will not never inform him. We will simply tell him
if and when our suspicions are confirmed. I see little reason to put our
leader into his foul moods unnecessarily and then foisting him upon unsuspecting
innocents. Namely, those in New York."
"All right. Call JD, keep it hush fer now."
"First of all," Danny interrupted, "you need to at least let Jack and Viv
know. They have to know or they won't know where to turn." Sighs of acquiescence.
"Now tell me. Who is Ella?"
"Oh." Buck sighed. "Ella...Ella Gaines killed Sarah and Adam."
"Chris' wife and son," Vin supplied.
Danny nearly choked on an ice cube in his water. "What?"
"Ella's loco," Buck said shortly. "She hired a man to kill Sarah and Adam
'cause she wanted Chris to herself."
"Since murder of a beloved wife and an adored son is precisely the way to
win a man's heart," Ezra declared sarcastically.
"But?" Danny looked at the grim expressions on the other agents' faces.
"She got away 'fore we could find her. We haven't been able to find her for
about a year since we last saw her."
"How do you know she was the one who did it?"
"Woman was stupid 'nuff ta tell Chris. Told 'im she killed 'em 'cause they
was in the way," Vin said disgustedly. "Then Chris found a room full of Sarah's
stuff that Ella stole after they died."
"Why aren't the Marshals looking for her then? If she's a murderer that's
"We have been unable to locate adequate evidence," Ezra replied. "As of right
"Does she know about Mary and Billy...I mean, in relation to Larabee?"
"C'mon." Buck snorted, slapping the table and then leaning back in his chair.
"The guy ya questioned at the prison knew about Mary and Billy."
"She killed Sarah and Adam Larabee...you're saying Mary and Billy Travis
could be dead by now." Danny was met by a stony silence.
"For the sake of Mr. Larabee, let us pray that it isn't so."
SAME TIME (2134 EST, 1934 MST)
PRINT ROOM, FBI HQ
NEW YORK CITY
"...here on the Travis case."
"All of them?"
"Family friends, I think."
"She's family friends with those men? I want to have friends like
"Haven't seen a coupla of them today."
"Danny Taylor's gone, too. Think he took the rich one, the long-haired one,
and Buck with him."
"Oh poop. Buck's gone? He was a real charmer."
"Yeah. The ones still here? That one in black is just scary."
"The kid is nice, but--"
"--too young. The other two are nice."
"The rich one's really nice, but I can't understand him."
"Great to hear 'im talk, though, in that Southern drawl."
"That long-haired one that looks like Martin Fitzgerald doesn't ever talk."
"Yeah, isn't that weird? I thought it was just me, but they do look alike."
"'Cept that long-haired one is real shy. It's sorta cute."
Vivian chuckled quietly at Martin.
"He blushes. Ain't ever seen Fitzgerald do that."
"Heard the long-haired one speak once. He's got this real cute little
cowboy-type, Texan drawl. Fitzgerald ain't got that, either."
Outside, Martin looked indignant.
Vivian looked chastisingly at Martin when he looked as though he would interject.
"'Course, did you see Fitzgerald the other day, when he was wearing that
dark vest and light blue polo shirt thing?"
"Without the tie?"
"Yup. Where do these GQ guys come from? Look like they should be on TV 'stead
Vivian knocked on the door. "It's Vivian. Do you have our papers?"
"Sure thing." The door opened to reveal two women inside. The one plopped
two large boxes into her arms. "Need some help taking it up?"
"No." She smiled and dumped a box in Martin's arms. "Thank you anyway."
The door closed on horrified faces as Vivian headed for the elevator, still
"Hey, I was enjoyin' that." Martin glared at her playfully.
"I doubt you need to be enjoying all of that."
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