A short fictional work based on the tv series 'Without a Trace'
Disclaimer: Without a Trace is owned by Jerry Bruckheimer Television, CBS Productions and Warner Bros. This fictional tale is for entertainment purposes only, not for commercial gain, which is prohibited.
The next morning brought them into their first encounter with some of their neighbors. The tennis club was open early and Martin and Danny didn't waste any time. By the third set, each was aware of the curious stares they were getting. Danny made eye contact then darted his dark eyes towards the club. Martin nodded slightly and walked around the net. Danny was surprised that when they met on the side of the court, Martin put his arm around his waist in a more than casual manner, sliding his palm down Danny's flank and rubbing the side of his leg. But he played along; after all they were on the 'stage'. He snaked his own arm around Martin's waist and they headed for the club.
The buffet at lunch was large and held a variety of selections. It looked like a scene from a wedding. Danny and Martin split up, seeking to chat with as many regulars as possible. Each hoping their training would be able to weed out anyone who might be a threat of some kind. Martin took the salad bar, loading a couple of plates with greens, crab salad and shrimp. He found a table near the south window, being invited to sit down by a blonde woman. Danny watched him introduce himself to the group and begin to talk, Martin saying something which caused all six at the table to laugh.
"Schmooze, my man, schmooze," he whispered, taking two slices of dark bread and loading them with rare roast beef, provolone, roasted peppers and horseradish sauce. He added pickles and hot peppers on the side and headed for the bar.
"Something for you?"
Danny glanced sharply due to the bartender's tone which was decidedly colder than the ice nearby. He knew from the history that he'd read on the employees, this was Jeff Muller, who'd also worked briefly at the Laurels in La Jolla. Jack mentioned him as slightly hostile towards gay men.
"Yeah, iced tea, thanks," Danny managed.
"He with you?" Jeff nodded towards the handsome man with blue eyes keeping the table by the window entertained.
"Yeah, we live together," Danny replied, not hiding the hostility in his own tone. His dark eyes met the other man's and he found himself being defensive. 'Why, you got a problem with that?"
"I just work here, what I think don't count."
"You actually think," Danny's voice was dripping in sarcasm, "and talk at the same time? New implants?"
"Smart guy, huh?" Jeff tossed back, sliding the ice tea over. "Guess Lover boy over there is the pretty one. I can pick them candy-asses out right away. I saw him swimming this morning, I had him pegged."
Danny resisted the urge to jump over the bar and shove the seltzer nozzle down the lout's throat and pull the trigger. He ate the sandwich and continued to draw the unsuspecting fly into his web. He took a large swallow of iced tea and watched the repulsive face continue to stare at Martin.
"This place must be desperate for help, if they're payin' you," Danny noted, picking up the second half of his sandwich.
"I do okay, management appreciates me," Jeff returned, smiling smugly. "I make myself well known and it's paid off."
"Really?" Danny made a mental note. The spin on the word 'appreciates' gave him pause. How well did Mrs. Amherst and her crew 'appreciate' Jeff? He was tall and all muscle, easily able to overpower another man. Was his position as bartender only one of his jobs there? Was he the hired help for illegal activity?
Martin gently questioned the others without them even being aware of the interrogation. He brought up politics, religion, weather and family life. When he mentioned he and Danny were living together, two of them had gay relatives; none seemed hostile or threatened by their situation. He got the immediate sense that they were not suspects. Sylvia Atwater, the blonde who introduced herself to him at the salad bar was a longtime resident. Her husband Stan was a primary stockholder and carried a lot of weight in the business. Martin mentioned he'd just invested heavily and they chatted about the stock market. They got to talking about sports and betting and Sylvia invited him to join them for lunch. She also invited him and Danny to a party that evening at their house. Just as the waiter took their plates away, Martin spotted a dangerous look in Danny's eyes. He'd been watching him converse with a very cocky bartender. He knew Danny was about to lose control and it was time to go.
"Hey, thanks so much for the warm welcome. Danny and I will see you tonight." He rose, nodded at the cheerful notes received and headed for the bar.
"So I bet blue-eyes had the old knee pads strapped on when you went to see Humpback Mountain, huh?" Muller sneered.
"Danny!" Martin growled, grabbing the back of the damp, white polo shirt just before it began to vault over the bar. 'Let's cool off, the pool's not far."
"Yeah, you and sweet cheeks have a nice swim, guess you don't know anything about the breaststroke?"
Martin swore he heard Danny growling as he shoved him through the door. The dark eyes were livid and both hands were fisted. He moved Danny past the sidewall where no one could see them. He let his partner pace for a few moments until the sparks shooting from his dark eyes diminished.
"You need to calm down, you're gonna blow this," Martin warned.
"Sorry, man, that redneck got me going. I wanted to shove that soda hose down his throat and drown him."
"So you tell Jack, let him check the guy out, okay?" Martin warned, keeping his hand on Danny's knotted up shoulder until he felt it relax.
"Yeah, I'll see you by the pool, I'll call Jack."
Martin waited until Danny was safely on the other side of the gate, heading for the large indoor pool. Then, he made his way back towards the clubhouse, spotting Danny's jacket on the seat by the bar. He went back inside and picked it up, then noticed the bartender unloading boxes by the door to the kitchen area. He made his way over and waited until the beefy barkeep noticed him. Martin squared his shoulders and turned up the heat in his gaze.
"We didn't get formally introduced," Martin stated coolly. "Martin Sheppard, just moved in and here to stay." He saw the smirk and held it, "Oh, you don't think so? I'm a big gambler and that is one bet you'd lose. Also," Martin added, "I want to apolgize for Dante, sometimes he loses his temper." He stepped closer and Muller backed up, puzzled. "I'm the one that usually finds it, since I'm the black belt." He saw Muller begin to turn away and waited, "Oh, and one more thing, you so much as look at Danny wrong and I'll have you in traction for six months, comprehend?"
"Get out of my face, sweet cheeks, or I'll show you just how creative I can be with a zucchini." Muller returned and shoved away, going back into the kitchen.
Martin did three laps in the pool and was turning to do his forth when he changed his mind. He spotted Danny lying on his stomach, flat out on a chaise. He got out of the pool and picked up a towel, drying himself off as he headed for his partner.
"Don't be wearin' yourself out," Danny mumbled, spotting Martin approaching. "I ain't eatin' that frozen shit for dinner again tonight. I don't want you too pooped to cook."
He yawned, stood up and put on the thick complimentary robe. The other side of the room had a juice bar and he was thirsty. Before he could react, Martin grabbed him and pushed him face first against the Roman style column nearby. The other man's hands went around his waist and his face pressed close. A husky voice met his ear and a hang tugged at the robe belt.
"Get your robe off and get on that table."
"Damn!" Danny rasped, dropping the robe as he was forced over to a massage table. "I got powers I don't know about."
"Don't flatter yourself," Martin stated, shoving Danny down and reaching for the bottle of warm oil. He began to massage the hot liquid into Danny's skin and leaned over him, nuzzling his neck by his ear. "We're being watched. I can't see the guy's face. When I'm done and you flip over, you look over my right shoulder. He's behind the stone wall outside."
When Martin tapped his thigh, Danny flipped over. While Fitzgerald's strong fingers worked the oil onto his chest, he eyed the perp that was indeed outside. Danny had his dark glasses on, so the man didn't know he was being observed. He didn't know how Martin had spotted the guy, he was barely visible. But Danny could see they were being recorded. The man had a small camera. He was wearing a heavy sweatshirt and a hood, but the body was the same build as Muller.
Martin paused when Danny sat up and grabbed his hand. He backed up a bit and Danny eased off the table, rose and moved close, forcing Martin to move back. His back hit the column, Danny followed, leaning in close. It was partially obstructed and from the spy's angle, he wouldn't be able to see what they were doing. The only thing he could see was that Danny had his legs spread apart, the edges of the feet visible at each side. But it would appear from the close proximity that they were groping and kissing.
"It's the bartender, I think," Danny whispered, "He's taping us. You got good eyes, man."
"Okay, let's get dressed and see where he goes with the tape. He's off duty at four that gives us about an hour."
"I'll call Jack, have him follow us from that seafood place near the turnoff," Danny noted of the restaurant that was the first public building when you left the property. "He can tape and monitor"
Muller watched the two leave the pool area arm in arm and head for the path that led to their condo. He glanced at his watch, shut the tape off and slipped it into his pocket. He had to finish up and head for the meeting place.
"Have yourselves a nice little fuck," he hissed, "It'll be your last." He didn't like the arrogant Sheppard and despite his orders, he intended to make him bleed slowly.
Danny suppressed a laugh at the look of distaste on Martin's face when they entered the large discount chain store. Dozens of aisles displayed bargains in every category for housewares, clothing, shoes, garden, electronics, jewelry and even food. Jack and Vivian were in the van monitoring the images Martin was sending through on the camera disguised as a cell phone. It dangled from the top of his blue sweater.
"We okay?" Martin asked and heard the affirmative reply.
"He's in the head," Danny stated, watching the men's room door.
They bulky envelope that they saw Muller slip into his coat told them he was meeting someone. Martin was clearly uncomfortable perusing the less than stellar linens by the end of the aisle. Danny on the other hand, had something catch his eye. He lifted it off the rack and waved it proudly in front of Fitzgerald's face.
"Hey, look at these."
"What?" Martin squinted, keeping an eye on the door to the men's room.
"We can put these in the kitchen!" Danny grinned, waving the bright yellow curtains covered with red chili peppers wearing green sombreros.
"Are you blind?" Martin's incredulous voice rose. "The kitchen is French country; I don't know what the hell you would do with those."
"I like them!" He decided proudly with a grin. " The kitchen's too boring now."
"You're not putting those in my kitchen," Martin argued, taking the offensive cotton curtains and putting them back.
"What do you mean 'your' kitchen?" Danny retorted.
"I warned you." Vivian turned to Jack who was cursing softly and reaching for the monitor.
"Christ!" Jack hissed, as the camera feed provided by the security department of the store showed Muller heading for the door with another man coming from the opposite side of the store and keeping slightly behind him. He pushed the button opening an airway. "Earth to Ozzie and Harriet, Wally and the Beaver just left the house."
"What?" Danny yelped, swiveling his dark head. "Shit..."
"See what you did," Martin accused, moving deftly through the narrow aisles.
"Me? I didn't..."
"Enough!" Jack roared, "Get your asses in gear and get after them. "Now!"
"There... there..." Danny whispered, nodding to Muller's sedan which was pulling into traffic.
"What's the other guy look like?" Martin asked, putting the car into gear.
"Magilla Gorilla," Jack replied from the van, eyeing a close up from the video. "Forty maybe, under six foot or so, two hundred and fifty pounds, close cropped dark hair."
Danny and Martin nearly caught the elusive car twice but lost it in traffic as it hit the interstate. They pulled off the road, turning the car around in a Burger King parking lot. Neither spoke, each glancing out the windshield hoping by some miracle the sedan would pull in front of them. Instead it was Jack's van that pulled up.
"Great," Martin sighed, rubbing his temples.
"You got a party to get to," Jack delivered in an icy tone from the end of the drive through line. "We know who he is, we got an APB on the car, could be he might even turn up at that party. Sometimes they hire the help for private affairs. Either way, you keep asking questions. If he's being paid, it might be by someone at that party."
"Jack, listen, I'm sorry..." Martin began.
"Save it," Malone ended the apology. "It's water under the bridge," he paused, "don't screw up again. Check in later."
"Okay," Martin tugged the earpiece out as the van turned away, leaving him and Danny to ponder their error. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah, me too," Danny said, "A lot of good that's doing Peter Riccardi. Let's go, we gotta lot to do before hitting the Atwaters place."
Sam was scanning the bio and other printouts on Mrs. Amherst when something caught her eye. She frowned and squinted at the handwritten note on the bottom of the page. It was Vivian's writing and appeared to be a name. There was a question mark after it and she read the name again.
"Monica Reed... wait a minute..." She flipped through her notes. "Hey, Viv?"
"Yes," Vivian answered from her desk. She walked over to where Sam was holding a document.
"Who's Monica Reed?"
"Oh, that." Vivian read her note from the day before. "She went to college with Mrs. Amherst. There was a call from her yesterday, I called back and left a voicemail."
"She called again today, it's on our hotline," Sam replied, hitting the redial.
"Hello?"
"Is this Monica Reed?"
"Yes, who is this?"
"Special Agent Samantha Spade, I'm here with my partner, Vivian Johnson. You called us about the Peter Riccardi case?"
"Yes, I'm glad you called back," Monica sighed, "it might be nothing, but something occurred to me about Lily Harper."
"Mrs. Amherst?" Vivian clarified using the married name.
"Yes, sorry, I guess I still think of her from our college days." Monica sat down and recalled the event. "It was a long time ago..."
The Atwaters house was easily the cream of the crop. Large and lavishly outfitted, it was clearly worth millions. It sat on the best piece of ground, with a breathtaking view. Two dozen guests mingled inside the large living room and some spilled into the billiard room downstairs. A trio of musicians played soft jazz music and two large tables held an eye catching display of hot and cold appetizers.
Danny eyed his partner and smiled, Martin looked good tonight. Of course it hadn't been without his help. As usual, his partner had dressed way too conservatively with the a dark navy suit and a custom striped tie. Danny groaned and immediately shoved the protesting body back into the bedroom and went through the closet. He found a light colored pair of pants and a great shirt with pastel tones. He lent Martin a pale sweater that matched, tying the sleeves loosely around his neck.
"Work your magic," Danny whispered, leaning into Martin from behind and patting his butt lightly, shoving him into the crowd.
Unbeknownst to the newcomers, someone had seen them enter and was watching their every move. A hand moved quickly to a phone and the voice relayed an urgent message.
"It's me, they've arrived, you know what to do. I'll set the wheels in motion now, you won't have any trouble getting him. Tonight's fine. Just don't make a mess."
An hour later, each having worked half of the crowd, they met at the edge of the foyer. Martin nodded to the narrow entryway that led back to the kitchen. It was dark and quiet, no one would hear them.
"Anything?" Martin asked.
"Maybe. I got some definite frosty stares from four of the guests. They seemed to be like the Atwaters, long time residents, old blood you know? But I don't think they're the type to kidnap or kill. How about you?"
"Nothing yet."
Noises from the kitchen told them they should move. Danny hustled down the path and into the dining room. They killed another hour but each felt they weren't gaining anything and time would be better spent waiting for Muller to show up. They thanked their hosts and made their way down the path towards their car. Danny saw Martin pause and eye the second floor.
"What?" he inquired following the fixed gaze.
"Well... never mind, it's nothing I guess," Martin unlocked the door and got behind the wheel.
"Well?" Danny asked, seeing a loose puzzle piece glinting in the sky eyes. "What do you mean 'well'?"
"Just now, before we left, I got the feeling I was being watched, I even saw a curtain move up above from the second landing. I went up but nobody was there except one of the strolling waiters." He paused, "At least the champagne is good."
Danny decided to check out the clubhouse on the way back, spotting a friendlier barkeep. He decided to see if the beer slinger could be eased into a chat about Muller. Martin went straight up to the room.
Martin was just pouring himself a mineral water when the door opened and Danny came inside. He saw the cell phone in his partner's hand flip shut and placed back in his pocket. He was glad Danny was back, he wasn't feeling well. He wondered if some of the seafood he'd eaten might have been off or maybe he wasn't used to swilling so much champagne in a short period of time.
"You were gone longer than I thought," he said, offering some water which the dark-haired agent denied.
"I was busy talking to Mike," Danny explained.
"Mike who?" Martin blinked rapidly, Danny swam out of focus for a moment. He'd definitely had too much to drink and not enough to eat.
"Some guy I met in the bar, a Real Estate mogul from Vegas. He said Muller left early tonight, he got a phonecall and seemed excited."
"Really?" Martin's voice changed not because of the information, rather because he had to hold onto the counter as the floor seemed to move.
Danny smiled, walked around the counter to grab a handful of ice cubes and eyed the firm body leaning against the counter. He couldn't resist and gave the prized Fitzgerald ass a good squeeze.
"Not to worry, Harvard, he don't have your ass."
"Cut that out," Martin yelped and slid back onto his stool. He felt better sitting down. "Why are you fixated on my ass?"
"Well I wouldn't have noticed if Sam hadn't mentioned it," Danny teased, tossing the ice into his mouth.
"Sam?" Martin's brows drew together as he brought forth an image of his lover. He dropped a wedge of lime into his water and frowned. "Sam was talking to you about my ass?"
"Actually, she was talking to her friend Brandi in the Lab. I just happened to be walking by and... .well... let's just say you're quite the uh... 'hero' down there now."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Martin's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Sam would never do that and he wondered what Danny was up to.
"Well, I didn't hear all of it and I'm not one to eavesdrop..."
"Since when?" Martin challenged, draining a large part of the water.
"...but I did hear something about 'endurance' and 'superman'"
"Oh yeah?"
Danny nearly choked at the primping tone and the chest that swelled just a bit. He left the handsome man dwelling on that for a moment, turning to leave the room. He paused at the doorway, before finishing his thought.
"Yeah," he waited through the pregnant pause. "She said you were 'faster than a speeding bullet' hence the Superman nickname."
"Fuck you, Taylor!" Martin chuckled and tossed a large handful of ice at the grinning fool.
"I knew I'd convert you!" Danny teased. "As much as I'd like to watch that fine ass of yours sliding all over my sheets, I'm gonna have to pass. I got a date."
"A date?" Martin choked, coughing up half a mouthful of water. "Now? It's after eleven. With who?"
"A girl!" Danny beamed, wagging his brows. "You remember them, soft and curvy in all the right places." When he saw the wounded face before him, he laughed outright.
"Aww... you're jealous!"
"Pffft!" Martin chuffed, grabbing the glass and trying to leave the room.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll make it up to you..." He shook his dark head and followed Fitzgerald who staggered. "Whoa!" He steadied him and sat him down on the edge of the coffee table. The blue eyes seemed out of kilter for a moment, before they blinked back at him. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just got dizzy, too much rich booze, I guess."
Danny inspected the other man and noticed Martin's eyes looked funny and he seemed to be wheezing a bit, also he seemed sluggish and pale. "Are you sick?"
"Not sure, maybe," Martin managed, wondering why it was so hard to talk. "Look, I'll call Sam and tell her to come here," Danny suggested.
"Sam? You're meeting Sam?"
"Yeah, remember I told you she called when we were at the Atwaters, she's got new information. I couldn't talk long on the phone." He eyed the sluggish body and felt his gut clinch. What if it wasn't a bug? What if something was wrong? "Damn, maybe I ought to stay here."
"Oh," Martin rasped, vaguely recalling that having Sam show up wouldn't do, what if she were recognized? Also, he didn't need a babysitter, he was just tired and maybe getting a bug.
"No, go meet Sam. I'm gonna go to bed." He found a small smile and cast his woeful eyes upwards. "Alone."
"Let me check for blood," Danny replied, pulling his shirt and peeking at his 'wounded heart'. He grinned and ruffled Martin's hair. "You call me if you feel lightheaded again, okay? I won't be long, I'll be back in an hour or so."
Martin got to his room and changed, draining the water. He eyed the shower and felt maybe the hot water would make him feel better. He took a pair of sweat pants with him. He let the hot water cascade all over him but it didn't help, as a matter of fact he felt worse. He got out, dried off and pulled his sweat pants on. The bathroom suddenly seemed to be turning and he had to hold onto the sink. He was gasping for breath now and felt very sick.
"Shit... shit..."
Something was very wrong. He had to get Danny or Jack now. He eyed the phone on the small bedside table and it appeared to his distorted vision to be miles away. The floor was moving and seemed to be crooked, making his gait staggered. He only went a few feet when a fist shot of out the dark from the bedroom and hit him on the jaw. The blow staggered him, sending him hard into the chest of drawers. Blood shot from his lip and his eye. The blow caused him to fall to his hands and knees. His head was jerked back harshly by his hair and a blade pressed against his exposed neck.
"Welcome home, sweet cheeks," Muller growled, "Looks like you didn't like that custom blended cocktail you sucked up before you left the party. Don't worry, though, we're gonna have ourselves a private party. You need to learn some manners."
Martin used what little strength he had to send his elbow hard into Muller's groin. The blade nicked his collarbone, but he was able to crawl away. He snaked his hand to the bedside table and got his gun. Muller's hand latched onto his leg and pulled him back. He was sucking in hard now, desperate to get air. He kicked back, dislodging the hand and shoved off from the bed table. Just as he turned to fire, Muller crashed into him and they fought for the gun. Then a shot rang out and all was still
Return to Deirdre's Fic Archive
