Nimble and quick hands dealt the cards over the small table. When the two men on the opposite side of the table had picked up, only then did the auburnhaired young man pick up his cards and lean back. Green eyes studied his opponents, he had done this so many times over the years that it usually only took him a few seconds to lay out a strategy for the game.
The game of poker was nearly second nature to him by now. It was the easiest game to find willing participants for and the said participants usually carried enough money to make the game worthwhile...not to mention interesting. The setting never meant much. Which was the reason for them now being inside a small, abandoned warehouse where someone had been kind enough to leave a round table along with some chairs.
The pile of money placed in front of him was growing remarkably well as the hours passed. The young man allowed himself a smile. One more round and he’d excuse himself for the night.
But before he could suggest another game, he noticed his fellow players’ eyes on him.
The bald man slowly placed his cards down, spreading them out in a fan. His voice was calm when he spoke, the undercurrents of malice clear in the quiet room. “I think our little friend here knows Lady Luck a little too well...”
“Now whatever do you mean?” the greeneyed youngster inquired, Southern accent distinct in his voice. “I resent that.” He was already getting up, swiping the money into his palm and stuffing them into the pocket of his jeans.
The dark eyes of the bald one’s companion were set on him.
“Oh you’re not leaving us yet, little man...” He was reaching for something in his coat pocket. “You still owe us for your little con job right now, I think I’ll settle for one of those pretty hands of yours.” Moving like a striking snake, the dark eyed man grabbed hold of the younger man’s wrists, dragging him over the table. The blade of a knife glinted dully in the white light of the single, naked lighbulb.
Green eyes went wide at the sight of the knife.
“Gentlemen, listen... This is obviously a misunderstanding! I would never try to con two such experienced card players as yourselves...” He knew he was babbling, but couldn’t stop himself. If he could just reach his own switchblade, the one that he kept in his back pocket of his jeans. “If you would be so kind as to release me, I’m sure we could work something out...”
The dark eyed man fastened his grip on the knife. “Not interested.” Bringing the knife down, he let it carve deeply into the slender wrist. Chuckling over the pained scream, he twisted the knife. “Gotta teach you not to mess with the wrong people, kid.”
The pain was excruciating, the greeneyed boy nearly felt sick watching the amount of blood running over his hands. At least the cut was on the top of his wrist, if the bastard had cut any major veins he would have been a goner. But the blood did make his hands slippery and with a soft moan of pain he pulled one hand free.
He had one chance, he was very aware of that. The bald man had kept silent until now, just watching and grinning. Taking a deep breath, he went for his knife. With an easy motion he flicked it open. Then planted it firmly into the larger man’s arm.
“Fuck!” the man cried, his hands instinctively opening, the hand of the unharmed arm going to clutch at the knife. Not bothering to even look up, the auburnhaired man pushed away from the table and fled.
Mentally scolding himself for being so stupid, he was listing every unkind name he had ever heard in his eighteen years of life. At last he stumbled into a dark alley, crouching down behind a set of garbage cans. Trying to get his breathing under control, he snuck a glance back into the street to try and determine if he had been followed. It didn’t look that way.
The stinging pain in his hand and wrist made him curl up against the wall. Slowly he lifted his wrist to examine it. It was still bleeding, not to mention hurting like hell.
“Damn, damn, damn...” he muttered. “Ok, get a grip...you’ve been through worse than this... Let’s see, I got to get this covered up, stop the bleeding...” After a quick look around he resorted to tearing a strip of the bottom of his T-shirt. Clumsily wrapping it around his wrist, he tried to ignore how much his hand was shaking.
“I have to keep it clean,” he reminded himself. “If it gets infected...well, that’s not good. Right.” He fastened the makeshift bandage. “A drugstore. But I can’t go looking like this,” he thought, studying the bloodied shirt. A frown appeared on his face and he slammed the unbandaged hand into the concrete wall behind him. “My backpack. I left it back at the warehouse. And with my best deck of cards,” he sourly thought.
Watching the street in silence, he knew he had to go back. Every fibre in him wanted to stay behind the dumpsters where it was safe, but his whole life was in that backpack. He couldn’t leave it behind. A hand went into his pocket feeling the money that lay there. All in all, he had been lucky after all. He had made quite a bit of money tonight.
Another fifteen minutes passed. The night got darker around him. God, he hated the dark. Slinking like a stray cat out from his hiding place, the greeneyed youngster made his way back to the place he had escaped from not too long ago.
Carefully sneaking back inside the abandoned warehouse, he stopped to listen. Everything was quiet. A silent sigh of relief escaped him before he moved forward again. The lightbulb hanging from the ceiling provided some light, but it still left the corners dark. Waiting a little longer, he took another step against the opposite wall. He had hidden his backpack under some cardboard boxes. Studying the small pile of debris, he smiled shortly. Just getting it, that would be easy, then he could get back out. He’d change his clothes, he had to have something clean in his pack, then a trip to the local pharmacy. After that he reckoned a change of location was a sensible thing. He also needed to acquire something new for protection. His knife was probably long gone.
Pulling the sleeve of his leather coat over his injured wrist, the greeneyed man started to push away the cardboard boxes. The nervous feeling began to build as the black backpack didn’t turn up. Then a sound startled him, making him freeze in place. The outline of a tall man appeared in the only door back out. Looking wildly around to try and find a way to escape, he nearly missed the first, mild words.
“Take it easy, son.” The figure lifted his hands. “I’m not here to hurt you.” The tall man took a step forward, the light revealing short, blonde hair and green eyes, a few shades lighter than his own.
The sight made the younger boy back away. “Who are you?”
A smile softened the hard face. “I’m Detective Chris Larabee.”
“Police? Why are you here?”
“We’ll get to that,” the blond man promised. “Why don’t you tell me your name first?”
The large, deep green eyes narrowed. “Why?”
Chris gave an internal sigh. Of course the kid wouldn’t cooperate. Measuring the young man, the kid had runaway written all over him. And if it was one thing those kids learnt on the street, it was to stay away from the law.
Slowly, Chris took a step closer. “Alright, I’ll come clean with you. A man was murdered in here. A witness saw a young man, fitting your description, running out of here like he had the devil himself on his tail.”
“Killed?” The Southern accent had thickened even more. “What... I mean, why...?”
“I was hoping you could tell me that,” Chris steadily replied. “The dead guy’s about six feet two, black hair, dark eyes...shot through the head with a small caliber gun. Ring a bell?”
“Why isn’t there anybody else here?”
“What?” The question surprised Chris at first. The kid was smart. Good.
“I found your backpack. Figured you would come back for it. So I waited, sent the others back to not make you take off again.” Seeing the younger man relax a little, Chris ventured further. “I really would like to hear your side of the story. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you were the one to kill him.”
“Really.” The one word was as dry as the dust on the floor.
“What happened?” Chris pointed to the cards still laying on the table. “I found another deck in your backpack. He caught you cheating?”
A visible shudder went through the other, he subconsciously placed the left hand on top of his right wrist.
“Something wrong with you arm there?”
Determined shaking of the head. “No.”
“Look, kid,” Chris tried again. “We can stay here until morning, talking around each other. Or you can tell me what really happened.”
Dark green eyes studied him. “Are you really a cop, mister?”
Chris looked puzzled. “Why do you ask?”
He got a small smile in return. “Every other cop would have just dragged my sorry ass downtown and charged me with the murder.”
“I ain’t every other cop, kid. I prefer knowing the whole story first.”
There was a pause when the other man watched him in silence, then he nodded. “Ok. I’ll talk. I didn’t kill him.”
A curved eyebrow lifted. “That’s all?”
“If I tell you what happened, will you let me go?”
“You know I can’t promise you that.” Chris kept his eyes locked with the younger man’s. “Why don’t you start talking and we’ll see.”
“Yeah, right. I don’t have much choice, do I?”
Now Chris was the one to shake his head. “Not really, no.”
Now the greeneyed man looked slightly lost, making Chris wonder just how old he was. Not a man to leave his curiosity unsatisfied, he asked.
That green gaze quickly whipped up. “I’m twenty-three.”
A knowing smile made its way over the detective’s face. “Nice try.”
Another deep sigh. “Eighteen.”
“That’s what I thought. Now let’s talk. You tell me exactly what happened here, and we’ll take it from there. And I would appreciate it very much if you would tell me your name.”
A few more seconds passed in silence.
“I guess that’s only fair...you did tell me your name after all. I’m Ez. Or Ezra Standish, if you prefer the long version.”
Chris extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Ez. What do you say that we take this some place else? My car is right outside. I need to take a formal statement.” He noted the quick step back. “Or we can do it right here. It’s up to you.”
Biting his lower lip, Ezra thought about it for a while. “I’d like to see your badge,” he said in the end. He was fairly sure that the tall blond was a cop, but it never hurt to be sure. Especially when it came to someone actually biting the dust. Another shudder went through him at the thought of the night’s events.
It seemed like the cop understood him, always a step ahead of him. Narrowing his eyes, Ezra studied the identification and nodded. “We can talk in your car. I don’t feel very comfortable in here.” Pausing a little he watched the other. “Can I have my backpack back now?”
“Very soon,” Chris promised. “Come on.”
+ + + + + + +
There was very few times where Buck Wilmington cursed the fact that he was a man of nearly two meters tall. This was definetely one of them. He had spent most of the night behind the wheel of a car that was not at all built for someone his size. Only one more hour and he was sure he’d be crippled for a whole damn week. At least he had coffee, a smile quirked the corner of his mouth up. His softhearted partner may ruin quite a lot of evenings for him, evenings where he could be out charming the ladies, but Larabee always made sure there was fresh, hot coffee around.
Taking a drink he went back to watch the warehouse again. Noting the movement he sat up. A few minutes later Chris opened the door. “Hiya, you still awake in there?”
Buck snorted. “Of course. You come up with anything?”
For an answer, Chris opened the back door to the car. “Oh I’d say I did.” He gestured for someone to take a seat in the backseat. “Buck, meet Ez Standish. He was one of the last to see our Mr. Doe alive.”
Turning in his seat, Buck met a pair of large, apprehensive green eyes. “Hey.”
“Hey,” the careful reply came.
Buck reached out his hand. “Name’s Buck Wilmington, I’m that guy’s partner.”
He got a serious nod in return. “I know.”
Chris got into the backseat as well. That way he hoped that it would seem less of an interrogation. Asking the first question, he was pleased to have broken down the preliminary defenses and actually got the story of what had happened inside the rundown warehouse.
“So after he pulled a knife on me, I ran,” Ezra finished. “It took me a while to realise that I had left my stuff behind and I had to come back for it. That’s when Mr. Larabee surprised me.”
The darkhaired driver was studying him with a incredulous look. “Aren’t you a bit young to be a con man, junior?”
Ezra merely shrugged. “A man’s gotta live...” He looked first at Buck then to Chris as if he suddenly had realized something. “I’m not in trouble for my card playing, am I?”
Chris shook his head. “Relax, we’re only interested in what got that guy you were playing against, killed. But if this is typical for your card games, maybe you should think of a new line of profession.”
“Hey, I’m good at what I do! Not my fault that the guy was a complete psycho.”
Before he could say anything else, the detective had reached over and pushed his coat open. The blood stains were more than obvious.
“I think you better tell us just where that blood is coming from, kid,” the darker man in the front of the car calmly requested. “You hurt, or did that blood used to belong to someone else?”
A cold shiver of fear crawled over Ezra’s spine. In all of what had happened he had forgotten about his wrist. Now he felt the throbbing pain return with a vengence.
“It’s mine,” he muttered in the end. Not looking up, he pushed the right sleeve of his coat away to let them see the blood-soaked bandage. “He wouldn’t let go of me, said he was going to take my hand. I had to stab him in the arm. Then I took off. Never saw him or the other guy again.”
“Other guy?”
Larabee was looking over his arm, carefully peeling the piece of cotton cloth away from the wound. “This’ll need to be stitched up. Can you move your fingers?”
Absentmindly Ezra waggled his fingers, wincing slightly in pain, before answering the question coming from Wilmington.
“Yeah. A tall, huge, bald guy. He was the one that first claimed I was cheating. He just stood around and smiled when the other guy decided he was going to get something back for the money he’d lost.” A small, weary smile curved his lips. “I sure know how to pick them, don’t I.”
The subtle roar of an engine followed. “Yeah, I’d say so.”
“We’re going to the local hospital,” Chris explained before Ezra had a chance to protest. “Just to get this fixed up, you’re bleeding buckets. Then we’ll swing by the station and take your formal statement.”
The radio crackled and Buck immediately answered. Replying in a few, short words, he pulled the car out into the road.
“Nathan on duty tonight?” he asked Chris who glanced up from the kid’s wounded hand. “Yeah. Think so. He should be in the ER.” Smiling at the young man seated next to him, he didn’t miss the nervous look. “It’s going to be alright, kid.”
The reply came at once. “I sure hope so.”
+ + + + + + +
Dr. Nathan Jackson slowly stood up, trying to work the kinks out of his back. So far he had treated some minor gun shot wounds, which was common most nights, one kid who had overdosed and a teenage couple involved in a car accident, and it wasn’t even that late at night yet. But for the moment the ER room was quiet, the patients having been transferred, giving him, the other doctors and the rest of the staff a small breather.
“Yo, Nate!” a familiar voice called, making Nathan turn to find an attractive ravenhaired woman moving towards him.
“’Evening, Rain,” he replied. “How’s things up at the children’s ward? The little monsters are keeping you busy?”
The young physician rolled her eyes, and giggled. “They do their best, alright.”
Leaning back, Nathan smiled. The two of them had become friends during medical school and were now both doing their residency at the same hospital. “When are you done tonight? Wanna step out for a coffee or something later?”
Rain’s reply was cut short by someone else calling Nathan’s name. Looking up, Nathan found to his surprise Buck staring back. The darkhaired man was waving him over to one of the examination cubicles.
“We’ll talk later,” Rain said, moving towards the exit again. “I’ll hold you to that promise of coffee though, Nate.”
Seeing her off with a chuckle, Nathan made his way to the cubicle. “Hey, Buck. What have you got for me tonight?”
“Witness in a murder case,” the tall detective explained. “He got a nasty cut over his wrist, Chris is in there with him now. Young kid, around twenty maybe.”
Nathan nodded. “Ok. Let me just get my gear.”
A little while later he had cleaned away the blood and was trying to determine how much damage the knife blade had done. The cut was deep, but luckily no muscles or tendons were hurt. The stitches made an intricate pattern over the otherwise smooth, unmarked skin and were in the end covered under thick gauze.
“There you go,” Nathan said, fastening the bandage. “Now you will have to leave the stitches in for a week or two, until the wound is completely healed.” He studied the younger man, and came to the same conclusion that Chris had earlier the same night. Both Chris, Buck and himself knew the signs too well. Meeting Chris’ eyes he knew what the older man was thinking.
Leaving Chris inside with the greeneyed kid, Nathan made a slight movement with his head, indicating that Buck and himself should step outside of the cubicle again.
“The kid in trouble?”
Buck looked thoughtful. “No. No, I don’t think so. He didn’t see the actual crime take place. He was playing cards with at least one of them, who didn’t take kindly to being conned. He nearly took off the kid’s hand.”
“And you’re sure that was all? I’d say if someone cut me open like that I’d probably do most anything to escape...”
The taller man hesitated. “I hear what you’re saying. But he claims he stabbed the guy in the arm with a switchblade and got loose. Then he ran. And Chris believes him...” Buck shrugged. “You know Chris when it comes to these kids. And he’s usually right too.”
Nathan still wasn’t convinced. “The guy was stabbed to death?”
“Nope. Shot. Clean through the head. Gun’s gone.”
The sounds of sirens outside drew Nathan’s attention away. “Have to go now, Buck. See ya tomorrow.”
“Yeah. See ya.”
The drive to the police station was a quiet one. The night had long since taken over the streets outside, but with the neon signs and street lights it never got really dark. The blackveiled shadows seemed to take this as a challenge, gathering in deep corners, waiting for their chance to flow out, locking the streets down.
In a few hours it would be over, at least for another day. The rising of the sun brought red edged mouths to gnaw at the hiding shadows, chasing them away for a few more precious hours.
Inside of the steel and concrete building the numerous lights draping the ceiling left no rooms for darkness, external at least.
A large number of photographs were placed before Ezra. One questioning glance up at Wilmington, the detective smiled. “Would you mind looking through these, to see if our guys are in here?”
Chuckling over the little sigh, he turned to find Chris who was on the phone. The tall blond finished his call and waved Buck over. “They found another witness. Someone saw our friend here,” he nodded towards Ezra who was dutifully going through the picture albums, “run from the warehouse. About three minutes later he heard a shot. Then another man left, he didn’t get a good look at him, except for that he had either very short hair or was bald.”
Leaning against Chris’ desk, Buck looked thoughtful. “I’d like to get the lab to run an analysis of the blood on his T-shirt. If it’s his, I’d say he’s cleared of suspicion. Any thoughts on what to do with him? You can’t just release him. Then we’ll never see him again.”
“I’m aware of that. I’ve already called Josiah, I’ll take him back there when we’re done here.”
“Ahm, excuse me...” The soft, Southern tinged voice interrupted them. “I think I found one of them.”
Looking over Ezra’s shoulder, Buck called Chris over. “Damn, junior,” he then said. “You really do know how to pick ‘em...”
“What do you mean?” Ezra asked, his face still a little pale. “Who is he?”
“Murdock Lassimer.” Chris was the one to answer. “Wanted for the murder of three Federal Agents. And for several bank robberies.” Quickly leafing through the pictures he found the one he was looking for. “This guy seem familiar to you?”
He could tell just by looking at Ezra’s face that he knew the man in the picture.
“He is, or was rather, Lassimer’s partner. Doug Corrick. Right now he’s down at city morgue, with a note around his toe.” Buck received the harsh stare from Chris without even blinking. “Along with the gun shot to the head he also had a knife wound in his right underarm. We found a switchblade at the scene of crime. It’s being tested right now, but the fingerprints on it would be yours, am I right?”
Ezra nodded, fear coiling up inside of him. Rubbing a tired hand over his eyes, he attempted to explain. “He wouldn’t let go of me...and it hurt so much. I didn’t know what else to do.”
A hand landed on his shoulder, startling him. “I think this is enough for tonight.” Chris was moving to sit on his desk. “I am going to take you to a friend of mine, Ez, I need you to stay there at least until we get a hold of Lassimer.”
“You think he shot his partner?” Ezra asked, thankfully accepting his backpack from Buck.
“They have a history of arguing and flaring tempers, even during the robberies. God only knows what made them stay together.”
“Greed.” Buck’s voice was dry. “They made a good team all in all, which meant money. They probably hated each others’ guts, but their greed won over everything else.”
Chris hopped off the desk. “Come on, let’s go. You look like you could use a good, warm meal and a place to sleep about now.”
Hugging his backpack to him, Ezra hesitated. “What is this place you said you’re taking me to?”
“A friend of mine. Don’t worry, you’ll like him.”
This time the drive took them out of the city. They passed through fifteen minutes of scattered forest before Buck stopped the car in front of a large white villa. Around the house smooth, green grass lined the driveway, the symmetry of the strands only broken by a few trees. Next to the wide porch there was a double garage. Most of the windows were lit, making the house look well occupied and homely.
Buck got out of the car, using the heel of his boot to push the door shut. Chris exited in a somewhat more graceful manner and held the door open for Ezra. Very slowly did the greeneyed man make his way out of the car. Once out he looked to the large house.
“I don’t wanna do this.”
Chris placed a gentle arm around the smaller man’s shoulders.
“It’s the best thing, I really don’t want you back on the streets before we find Lassimer.” Studying the chestnut haired boy he offered a smile. “I know it’s scary. But I promise you that you’ll like it here. Come on, let’s get inside.”
The first that met them as they entered was a young, darkhaired boy, a few years younger than Ezra himself.
“Hey sport,” Buck greeted him, the two of them so alike in appearance that Ezra wondered if they could be brothers, or at least related. Chris mildly pushed him on. Leaving the two others in the hall, Chris led the way into a sitting room at the base of the stairway. Slowly following Ezra kept close to the older man. In the back of the room a small fire was burning on a fireplace. The figure standing next to the fire could easily seem intimidating at first look, but the wide, open smile immediately put Ezra at ease.
The large man, approximately in his mid-fifties, greeted Chris with a hug.
“About time you came around. We hardly see you anymore.”
Chris smiled back. “I’ve been swamped at work lately. Tell you what, I’ll come up for the weekend, I know Buck’s planning the same.”
“That’s good, JD is going to be thrilled. He doesn’t get to spend much time with his big brother much these days, between school and Buck’s work.” Blue eyes found Ezra. “And who’s your friend there?”
“Josiah, I’d like you to meet Ez Standish,” Chris introduced them. “Ez, this is Josiah Standish, my fosterfather.”
Taking the Southerner’s hand in a firm grip, Josiah smiled. “Nice to meet you, Ezra.” Gesturing towards the couch, he told the two other to have a seat. Still feeling somewhat jumpy Ezra took a seat next to Chris, the blond man being the safest thing he had at the moment. The older man seemed to realize what he was thinking, doing his best to make him feel safe.
The rest of the house was far from silent. Ezra could easily hear Buck’s laughter from the hall, along with the voice of someone younger. Other voices could also be head, faintly.
Steps were coming closer and the door was pushed completely open. A greyhaired lady, wearing dark blue jeans and a light, flowery blouse entered. Bringing an air of efficiency with her, she leaned in to plant a firm kiss on Chris’ cheek, making him blush slightly. Then she turned to Ezra.
“My,” she said, smile growing. “If that’s not the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen on a boy... What’s your name, sweetie?”
Not quite sure how to handle the situation, Ezra took the easy way out. He quickly got out of the couch. “I’m Ezra Standish, Ma’am.”
“A good name for a Southern boy,” the woman nodded. “And impeccable manners too... You two,” she pointed to Josiah and Chris, ”might have something learn here.” Gallantly overhearing their chuckles she turned her attention back to Ezra.
“I’m Antoinette Welles, but everybody here calls me just Nettie. As you probably have noticed I hail from the South myself, more precisely la belle ville of New Orleans. I help keep control on the current pack of mad wolves residing in this house.” Measuring him up and down, she looked determined. “Now you come with me, my dear, you look like you could use some more meat on your bones. I’ll fix you up with something nice and filling.”
Not able to help a smile over the slight panicked look he was getting, Chris sat up. “Go on, Ez, she’ll take good care of you. I’ll come see you before I leave.” He got another glance and then Ezra followed Nettie out, the older lady engaging him in a conversation about the fabled weather in the South.
“You did good with him.” Josiah’s voice brought Chris out of his musings. “What’s this one’s story?”
Chris sighed. “The usual, except for the guy he came out for tonight. Runaway, living on the streets... I had Buck run his picture and prints through the files. Nothing.”
“He could still be in there, you know.”
“I know.” Chris’ expression darkened. “Or nobody ever reported him missing. He’s not new to this, Josiah. He’s been on those streets for a long time. I know the type. Heck, I even used to be the type.”
“Yes. And look how well you turned out. But...” The older man’s voice was warm. “You can’t save them all, Chris.”
Another sigh escaped Chris. “I know that. But I’d like to try and save some... Ezra for instance. He’s a good kid, Josiah, just got off to a bad start. For what it’s worth, I don’t think he’s ever had that much to do with the cops, he’d be a lot more evasive if he had. Which means he’s either lucky or smart, or both.”
+ + + + + + +
Glancing down on his somewhat ruffled appearance, Ezra paused on his way. “Ma’am, if it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to clean up a little first.”
Nettie smiled brightly. “Of course, sweetie. Just hold on a minute and I’ll have young JD show you the bathroom.” One second later she hollered JD’s name, making Ezra jump.
“Geez, Nettie!” a voice hollered back. “Wake the dead, will ya?”
“Only the faint of hearing,” she replied, smiling fondly at JD. “Now please escort this gentleman upstairs to the bathroom and then you’ll both come on down to the kitchen. Oh and do tell you that rascal you call brother that if he doesn’t come say hello before he leaves, I’ll come get him myself, by his ear.”
JD chuckled. “I’ll let him know.” Heading for the stairs, he didn’t wait to see if Ezra followed. Taking a deep breath, the greeneyed man started for the stairway.
Dark brown eyes were watching him expectantly. “I’m JD,” the younger man offered. “What did you do?”
“Nothing much,” Ezra pulled his coat tighter around him. “Played cards with the wrong kind of people, that’s all.”
“Must have been some cardgame. You look like somebody bled to death on your T-shirt.”
“Funny,” Ezra replied, voice taut.
“Not meant to be. Just wondered what had Chris’ good samaritan instincts going with you.”
“What?” Ezra had stopped, placing a hand on the younger boy’s arm to stop him as well. “What do you mean?”
“Buck says it’s because Chris used to be like them himself. Street kid, I mean. Josiah and Caroline took him in, saved him. Now he’s respecting her memory by doing what she and Josiah did for him, for others.”
Examining the shorter boy, Ezra looked thoughful. “You too?”
JD smiled. “No, Buck’s and my parents were killed in a car accident. The judge didn’t want to let Buck take the responsibility for me because he was just sixteen at the time. Josiah took us in, he knew our parents. But for Vin, he’s one of Chris’ lost lambs.”
“Lost lambs?” Ezra was well and truly confused.
“I call him that to tease him.” JD was chuckling again. “He hates that. Chris found him when he was a rookie cop, he’d got mixed up with some rather bad people. You’ll get to meet him later. Now, here’s the bathroom. Hurry up in there, ok? Nettie’s making her famous chocolate chip cookies. They’re to die for.”
Lost for words, which happened very, very rarely, Ezra just went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
He shrugged off his coat, examining it closely for blood stains. Then the torn T-shirt followed, being instantly bundled up and stuffed into his backpack. Once it was out of sight, Ezra felt a little more at ease. He didn’t dare to take too long; deciding that the jeans he was wearing was presentable enough. Rummaging through his pack, he located a black T-shirt and placed it on the white-tiled counter. He hated being dirty, the thought alone brought back demons from his past that he feared and hated with equal passion. The feel of the warm water was heavenly though. Quickly washing up, Ezra pulled the clean T-shirt on, the fabric clinging to the slightly damp skin. He ran a hand through his hair, then left the room. JD was waiting for him outside, as promised.
“Let’s go!”
Silently, Ezra followed, gripping his coat tightly in one hand, the backpack over his shoulder. It wasn’t too late; he could make it if he made a run for it. He was good at finding his way, he’d be back in the city by morning, then...
The sudden presence of a very tall man in front of him made him jump.
“Now you wouldn’t be thinking of running away, would you?” Blue eyes, looking very much like his younger brother’s darker eyes, crinkled in a smile. “Come on, kid.”
Giving in, Ezra followed Buck to the kitchen.
“There you are,” Nettie said, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. “You go sit by Vin there, Ezra. It’s not good to be eating alone. Vin’s just home from college.”
The first thing Ezra noticed about the man sitting at the table was a pair of deep blue eyes. The other was a year or two older than him, probably a little taller, with a lean build. Long, brown curls were tucked safely behind his ears and loosely secured in the back.
“Hey,” a voice heavily coated in a Texan accent said. “Name’s Vin Tanner. And you?”
“Ez Standish.” He had lost count on how many times he had introduced himself that day alone.
Nettie was puttering around by the stove and setting the table. JD appeared and then disappeared after loading one palm with cookies. After filling two glasses with ice tea and placing a healthy portion of supper on their places, Nettie went back to the stove. Soft humming drifted over to the table.
Realizing just how much he had missed this, Vin smiled a little, taking a drink from his glass. Then he watched the younger man sitting next to him. Cute. He was definitely cute with those huge, expressive green eyes, auburncoloured hair and full lips where the lower one was right now caught between straight teeth. The broad shoulders and strong chest were wrapped in a tight T-shirt, the rest of him clad in jeans and worn boots.
“I hear you’re not from around here?” he asked, picking up his fork.
“No...” Ezra shook his head. “I’m from Georgia, originally. Left that place a long time ago.”
“Know what you mean. Sometimes you need a little distance.”
“You can say that again.”
“But it’s nice to set down some roots too, though... Have a place to come back to.”
“I guess.”
By the stove Nettie hid a smile. The easygoing Westerner was just the right one, in her humble opinion, to get through the greeneyed newcomer’s defenses. They were all like that when they first arrived, but with a lot of TLC everything usually turned out better than good.
Something along the same line crossed Chris’ thoughts as he was waiting right outside the door, listening to the conversation between Vin and Ezra. The two of them seemed to get along very well, which made him feel a lot better. Hoping that the kid wouldn’t try to run off again, he entered the kitchen.
+ + + + + + +
There was a comfortable silence as both boys got ready for bed. The clock had long since passed midnight. Nettie had suggested that Ezra should stay with Vin, then set about to fix the beds. Vin had merely sent Ezra a look and smiled. “It’s easier just to let her have her way...you don’t mind?”
Ezra shook his head, a few locks of hair falling onto his forehead. “No.”
Admiring the way the artificial light reflected in the auburn hair, Vin had to restrain himself from reaching out to brush them away. “Good. Come on, I’ll show you where my room is.”
Nettie had left them a little while later, with half-serious threats of coming back to tuck them in.
Vin was sitting crosslegged in his bed, wearing a light set of pj pants and a light blue T-shirt. “Hey, can I ask you a question, Ez? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
Sitting on the other bed, across the room, Ez looked up. “Sure. Ask away.”
“Why did you run away?”
The blue gaze became too intense and Ez turned his head away. “Lotsa reasons... Why do you want to know?”
“Have you ever told anyone about it?” Vin got a slight shake of the head in return. Then he continued. “I’ve been told I make for a good listener if you do want to talk about it. I won’t tell anybody else.”
“There’s nothing to tell.” Ezra was still not looking at him. “I just got tired of my mother dropping me off at every and other relative’s house and taking off. I didn’t want to be there and they didn’t want me there. So one night I split.”
“How old were you?”
“Fourteen. Four years ago.”
“I was twelve when I ran away. The streets makes you grow up real fast, don’t they.” He wasn’t asking.
Leaning his back to the wall, Ezra was hugging his knees to his chest. “What made you leave?” He wanted to ask about what JD had told him earlier, but decided to let it wait. He sure wasn’t too comfortable talking about his past himself, his kind usually weren’t.
Vin smiled. “Lotsa reasons,” he lightly teased. “Mostly because my daddy’s sanity had taken the last train out and I thought it would be smartest to follow. I never saw the old man since.”
“Do you ever miss him?”
The look on Vin’s face softened. “Yeah, every once in a while. He never hit me or anything like that, but he could be real scary to be around. But I do miss him.”
“Would you go back?”
Vin shook his head. “No.” Their eyes met. “Would you?”
“No. Even if I wanted to, I have no idea where she is. I figure I’m better off on my own.”
“If you want my opinion,” Vin started, not quite sure how to say what he wanted. “You could do worse than staying here. No man is an island and all that, and the folks here are real nice. And they understand.” There was a slight pause. “About losing someone, I mean. And about running from stuff.” He stopped, not wanting to make the younger boy feel pushed into anything.
“I’ll think about it,” Ezra replied in the end.
“Can’t ask for more than that,” Vin stated. “’Night, Ez.”
“’Night.”
There was a soft click as the lamp was turned off, then the room was plunged into darkness.
Ezra held his breath, not even knowing it. The first moments were always the worst. Everything was pitch black around him, the darkness like a heavy, suffocating blanket. But if he just waited a little, some of the darkness would transform itself into lighter, grey areas. The window became a point of concentration, the rectangular patch of weak light something to ease the first bout of panic.
At first the silence was absolute. Then, like the darkness, it lifted a little, allowing small sounds to slip through. There was the possibility of turning the light back on, but that meant leaving the bed. He would have to step out into the darkness. It was stupid, he was well aware of that. There was nothing inside this room that could hurt him, only the fear that the darkness in itself was something living and breathing. An irrational fear by all means, but it nevertheless felt painfully real.
As always the memories came uninvited. And if he should manage to fall asleep they would have the company of nightmares.
Curling up, pressing himself into the wall, Ezra closed his eyes again. Sunrise was only a few hours away. All he had to do was wait. Focusing on his breathing, he forced himself to take deep, even breaths. His hands were sweaty, clutching the blanket like some kind of lifeline. “You’re being childish,” he berated himself. “It’s nothing to be scared of... Not anymore.”
The room was full of unfamiliar sounds. The soft whisper of the wind through the trees outside soothed him a little. The infrequent creaks made him think of a rainy night when he was a child. Maude Standish was perhaps not the most skilled nor dedicated parent, but Ezra did have a few, fond memories of the mother he hadn’t seen in close to five years.
They had spent some time at an old guesthouse, just along the border of Alabama. The winds made the large, wooden house groan and shift. He had been scared then, sure of the monsters waiting right outside the windows. Maude had told him that it was just an old house’s way of settling down to rest for the night. Sitting in her lap with her arms around him, the six years old had fallen asleep easily.
The memory produced a warm feeling inside of him. The guest house had turned out to be one of the places he had felt absolutely safe. Holding onto the memory Ezra closed his eyes against the darkness and tried to sleep. Outside the winds grew, making the leaves shiver.
Vin woke up to the quiet sound of someone whimpering. Pushing away the blankets he sat up, for a second wondering where the sound was coming from. As his thoughts cleared from sleep, his eyes found the small figure in the other bed. “Ez?” he asked, getting to his feet. “Ez, you ok?” Walking barefooted over the floor, he wasn’t really surprised to find the other still sleeping. He’d had his own share of nightmares to fight.
Carefully Vin sat down on the bed, placing his hand on Ezra’s shoulder. The muscles were tense underneath his touch. About to wake the other up, he noticed the faint lines of scar tissue on Ezra’s arms. The scarring was old, only visible up close. Running a thoughtful fingertip over the flesh, he felt the slight indentations of healed skin. Then he placed his hand on Ez’s shoulder again.
“Ez, come on, wake up.” He shook the warm shoulder a little harder. By the touch, Ezra came to with a start, pushing Vin away. The next thing he knew, Vin found himself sitting on the floor, looking up into wide, scared eyes
“Whoah. It’s just me, Ez. You were having a bad dream.”
“Vin?” Ezra’s voice was quiet, as if he was waiting to find someone else in the room. Sitting up, he curled back into the corner. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to kick you out of the bed.”
“That’s ok,” Vin got up again, discreetly rubbing his behind which had taken the brunt of the fall. “It was my fault, I scared you.” He took a closer look at Ezra. “Did you sleep at all, man? You look like hell.”
His remark earned him a faint smile.
“Why thank you.”
This time Vin took a seat in the bottom of the bed, tucking his toes under the blanket. “I mean it, Ezra.” Narrowing his eyes he studied Ezra closely. There were dark circles under the green eyes, and his face was drawn and pale. But what was bothering Vin the most was the look of fear that had been dominant on the Southerner’s face when he woke up.
“You were dreaming...must have been bad.”
Brushing his fingers through his hair, Ezra looked away. “I just don’t like the dark, that’s all.”
Watching him, Vin didn’t miss the still tense muscles and the downcast eyes. “Fair enough. Do you want to sleep some more, I’ll clear out for a while.” Ezra was shaking his head no before Vin had the chance to finish.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine to me.”
“I said I was fine!”
Ezra looked more surprised than Vin over his sudden, angry outburst. His eyebrows knitted together in a frown. “Uh, Vin...I didn’t mean it like that...”
Smiling, Vin reached out to give his hand a friendly pat. “Never mind.” He stretched, swinging his feet out onto the floor. “Mind if I take first turn in the bathroom?”
“Go ahead.” Quietly looking after him, Ezra bit his lip. “Vin?” he then said before he could stop himself. “I really didn’t mean to yell at you like that, I get kinda grumpy when I don’t sleep enough...”
Hearing the nervous tone in the younger man’s voice, making the accent seem even thicker, Vin’s heart melted completely. “Geez,” he told himself, tucking a stray curl behind his ear out of old habit. “You’re on dangerous ground here, Tanner, you hardly know the guy.”
A mischievous glint made his eyes shine, then he took hold of his pillow. Hugging it to his chest, he turned back around. Then the pillow made a graceful arch across the room before hitting Ezra right in the face. After a second of shocked silence, Ezra slowly made his way out of the bed. His own pillow held safely in his right hand. Vin dove to retrieve his own pillow. Just to get slapped in the back of the head.
“You know this means war?” he asked, after pushing the mass of tangled, brown curls away from his face. This time the pillow hit him in the face. Adopting a pretend-glare Vin stalked towards Ezra who was laughing. The laughter proved to be contagious. Seeing his chance Vin pounced.
Five minutes later the door was opened. JD appeared in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “Would you mind? People are trying to sleep here!”
Green eyes met blue and two pillows went flying. The shriek that followed had them laughing even more. JD couldn’t keep the stern expression for long, and went to pick up the pillows. Entering the room he made sure to slap both of them over the head.
“Aw,” Vin stated. “You couldn’t be less of a morning person than JD here anyway, Ez. He usually doesn’t show signs of coherent thought before noon...hey!” He looked up at JD who had just hit him another time with the pillow. Without a word Ezra handed Vin his pillow, then wisely moved out of the line of fire.
The next time Nettie appeared in the door. Resting her hands on her hips, she smiled. “Y’all sound like a herd of elephants.” She shooed JD back to his own room. “You go get dressed, hon, breakfast’s nearly done. And you two,” she addressed Vin and Ezra. “I’ll never understand where you can find that much energy at this hour of the morning... Now get out of here so I can straighten up this mess.”
“Yes, sir,” Vin replied, slipping out the door before Nettie could reply. Ezra pushed himself up from the floor, putting the blankets back into the bed. “We really made a mess,” he observed, looking around himself critically.
“You sure did.” She had to smile over the look on his face. “It’s ok, sweetie, I’m sure this room’s seen worse. And heaven and all its angels know that Vin is definitely not too pedantic.” Nettie’s never far away smile returned, getting a shy smile from Ezra in return.
“And you even got JD out of bed before noon. Which, take it from me, is quite the task.”
“I can understand his feelings,” Ezra told her, “mornings usually don’t agree with me either.”
“Early bird gets the worm.” Now Nettie chuckled over the young Southerner’s look. “Yes, I know. It’s not the most appetizing words of wisdom I have heard.” Straightening out the beds, she gave a satisfied nod. “That’ll do it. I’ll have breakfast ready in a minute. No worms, I promise.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Maybe one or two of those nice, black beetles ground into the coffee for taste, but no worms.”
She left with a wink, leaving Ezra fairly sure that she was only joking. The older woman had an uncanny ability to make people feel at ease around her. His world had, to some extent, been turned upside down and Ezra still hadn’t made up his mind about what he was feeling about it all.
Vin chose that moment to enter the room again. Wearing nothing but a snug pair of black boxers and a golden-brown mass of wet ringlets framing his face, neck and shoulders. The strong, lean body was well tanned, confessing of many hours of outdoor activities. It all made Ezra feel a sudden stab of mixed, confusing feelings. The older boy made for a very pleasant image to the eyes, giving way for more intimate feelings. But the feelings also produced fears that made Ezra quickly quench the emotions.
“Shower’s all yours,” Vin said, making his way to the closet. “Hope Nettie didn’t tease you too much. She can be right evil when she wants to.” He smiled at Ezra over his shoulder, taking the sting out of the words. “Ez? You ok over there?”
The heat of a blush taking over for the paleness, Ex nodded. “Yeah. I’m... I’m fine.” He hurried out into the bathroom.
Vin was left with his own, slightly worried thoughts. Over the years he had spent in the Sanchez house, he had met a lot of people. Younger than him, older than him...they all had things hidden in their past. A lot of them had ran away from abuse, molest, neglect or all of the above. Yet others had had their reasons for ending up on the streets and every once in a while in police custody. The brownhaired young man slowly pulled on a pair of faded jeans, his thoughts taking him back several years in time. It was tough seeing yourself in others, meeting every emotion you kept in yourself in a stranger’s eyes. But there was also comfort and safety in the fact that there were others who had been through and even were going through what you were going through. “Right,” Vin decided, “I just have to get him to talk to me...”
The memory of the scars made an unpleasant chill tingle down his back. Scars were never good.
+ + + + + + +
The sun was shining from a clear sky, making the glass facade of the station glitter. Giving it a look, Buck shook his head. He should have become a teacher, at least they had most of the summer off. Walking towards his desk he spotted an easily recognizable blond head. His partner was sprawled in his chair, head on his arms on the desk. Sleeping like a baby. Silently Buck dragged his chair over to Chris' desk and sat down. Then he lifted his feet and let them hit the table top with a thud.
"Wha...?" Chris was up in an instant, hazel eyes looking wildly around. Then they narrowed at the sight of Buck.
"Feet off the desk, Wilmington."
Buck grinned, but removed his feet. "You look like death warmed over, Chris. Go home and sleep, will ya?"
The other rubbed his hands over his face. "In a while, yeah. I have a few things to take care of first."
"You been down here all night?" Buck shook his head again, this time on Chris' behalf. "What am I saying? Of course you have."
"Well," Chris started, standing up to stretch his tired limbs. "I just can't make sense of this, you know? Lassimer and Corrick obviously hated each other. But why did Lassimer decide to kill Corrick just last night? And the gun shot...it wasn't done in anger... It was calculated. With a weapon that would have been easily concealed. Corrick was just carrying a knife."
"Then why the card playing?" Buck had sat up properly, leaning his elbows on his knees. "You think he was trying to frame someone for the murder? He knew better than anyone that Corrick had a bad temper and a vicious streak."
"It's a possibility," Chris sighed, letting himself fall down in the chair again. "Ezra had never seen them before, so chances are that he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But then again, Lassimer is wanted for the murder of those feds, one more shouldn't make that much of a difference for him."
Now Buck looked thoughtful. "Hold on there... During the robberies and the bust, which one of them did the actual shooting?"
Their eyes met.
"Corrick." Buck leaned back. "Lassimer's cleaning up. With Corrick out of the way, maybe he thinks he can bluff his way out of this. Lord knows there was no love lost between them. With the right jury he could be able to convince them he was forced into helping Corrick."
Watching the blond man, he carefully added: " That means that the kid could be in danger too. Lassimer probably doesn't know we have him, but we can't know for sure..."
"He'll stay at the house. I have already talked to Josiah earlier this morning, the kids were having breakfast." Chris gave a smile. "Vin's home from college for the summer, apparently he and Ezra got along perfectly."
Buck nodded. "Vin's a good kid. I'll call Josiah and let him know the latest updates. You go home and get some sleep."
"I told Ezra I'd be back this morning." Chris hesitated, only to have Buck waving him off.
"Which you will, after some hours of sleep. Now go home."
Chris threw him a mock salute. "Yes, sir." Then he smiled. "Alright, I know when I've lost. See ya later, Buck."
"Yeah, yeah... Off you go." Seeing him off, Buck went for the phone.
An hour later Josiah placed down the phone for the second time. After his conversation with Buck, he had talked to the social worker that had been handed Ezra's case. As most of the social workers she had too many cases and too little time, and was happy to hear that one had already been taken care of. Which in turn the greyhaired man was well aware of. Ever since his wife and he had taken in the first foster child, he had become very familiar with the official instances. The sound of voices outside the study had him looking up. He opened the door to find Ezra and Vin outside.
"Just the man I wanted to see," he told Ezra with a smile. "I'd like to talk to you for a second, son."
The green eyes shifted to Vin.
"I'll wait," the older boy said. "I'll be down in the kitchen, ok?"
"Ok." Ezra was looking a little bit nervous, which Josiah had expected. He had seen the same look on quite a few faces over the years.
"Have a seat, Ezra. I had a call from Chris earlier, he is stopping by later. But he did ask me to talk to you about this as soon as possible..." Josiah took a seat in his favourite arm chair. "There has been some development in the case you got involved in. That man, Lassimer, is still at large, and they suspect he might be coming after you. You are after all the key witness."
"But I didn't see anything!" Ezra protested. "After I got loose, I ran. Didn't even look back."
"It's just to be sure," Josiah gently told him. "What I wanted to talk to you about, is this... I know you have talked to both Vin and Chris about their backgrounds. You are welcome to stay here as long as you want. What I need from you in return is commitment."
There was a frown on the young Southerner's face. "What kind of commitment?"
"We don't have many rules around here," Josiah stated, "but we have a few. And there is the issue of school and such, but we can deal with that later when you are settled in a little more. And what you get out of it...I hope you can come to think of this as a home in time." He studied Ezra. "What do you say, son?"
The look on the other's face told clearly of the battle that was going on inside of him. Josiah kept his silence, allowing the boy his time to think. It had to be his own choice. The silence lasted a few seconds more, then Ezra looked back at him.
"What exactly are those rules you mentioned?"
The older man leaned back with a wide smile. "There's only a few. First of all, no drugs. When it comes to alcohol, as unlikely as it may seem, I do remember what it's like to be young... So as long as it stays on an innocent level..."
Now there was a proud glint in Ezra's eyes. "I'm not stupid enough to do drugs."
"Of course you aren't, not in your line of work. I'll tell you what...I've never encountered a con artist that was addicted to either drugs nor alcohol. But they make the most convincing drunk you'll ever see. Better than any actors."
Ezra smiled. "Well, if they think you might be more than a bit intoxicated, there's no limit to what they'll bet on the game. Comes in handy at times."
"I bet it does. Let's see now, rule number two. No criminal activities, which in your case means no more gambling."
"I can't play cards anymore? But I'm going to lose my touch if I can't!"
Choosing to overhear the last statement, Josiah held up his hand. "You can play, just not for money. You don't need that here. And that's basically it. Will you be allright sharing a room with Vin until we can set you up with one of your own?"
"Sure." Ezra had a slight feeling that he might have been conned himself. All of a sudden he realized that he was actually staying at the Sanchez house. It was a strange feeling, and more than a little scary. But it also felt good in a way that he didn't know how to explain.
Josiah's voice brought him back to the real world.
"Chris will be here later, he wanted to talk to you about all this too."
"I was going out with Vin..." Ezra paused. "Should I...?" He was still feeling a little stunned, thoughts going a mile a minute. Although he was used to his life being unpredictable and fast changing, it didn't mean that he liked it. Carefully studying the older man, he made his mind up. He'd stay for the time being. Biting his lower lip again, he reminded himself that he needed to have every option open. So he could take off again if the situation should demand it.
Josiah smiled again, looking like he knew exactly what was going on inside Ezra's mind. "You two boys run along. Chris'll wait for you." He watched the boy get to his feet.
"Vin's waiting for me downstairs, you mind if I...?"
The other man shook his head. "Of course not. You two have fun." This time he got a smile in return.
+ + + + + + +
"So," Vin were smiling. "You're staying. I'm glad to hear that."
"So am I, I think. Although I'm still not sure just how it happened. Seems like the old man knows a few tricks of his own."
Entering the jeep, Vin had to laugh. "Sure he does. You have to, when you're a foster parent. I mean, we've played every trick in the book on him and Caroline."
"Caroline?" Ezra turned to look at the blueeyed boy next to him. "Who's that?"
A sad look passed over the Westerner's handsome face. "Josiah's wife. She died from cancer some years back. She was great."
"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."
"You would have liked her, Ez. She was one of a kind." Vin started the car. "Now then, are you ready for the grand tour?"
Taking a deep breath, Ezra nodded. "I guess I am. After all I'm supposed to be staying here for a while. Might as well find out what 'here' looks like."
The End
