Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea 1. Chapter 1 - A Bad Start to Leave

**Shadows from the Past**

Notes:

Story length

This is a novel length story in 42 chapters. Be assured it has been **completely written before I uploaded the first chapter **like all my stories because I dislike abandoned stories. I hope you are engaged enough to get to the end. My intent is to post several chapters a day.

2\. The time frame of the story

This story takes place in 1992. The latest canon date I ever saw on an episode start was 1982. This story could be consistent with the characters' natural ages in 1992, if you buy into Lee being one of the youngest commanders in the Navy before he joined Seaview. Lee conceivably could be around 42-44 in 1992, but I think that's a stretch.

Moreover, given the existence of canon dates in the 70's, I can't visualize the boat and its characters remaining unchanged 15-20 years later. Chip still an exec? No, he should be captaining. Or O'Brien? So in my mind, I've pulled the whole series forward in time to the late 80's and early 90's, so it is only five or six years or so from Lee's first coming aboard. I rationalize this by stating I think the feel of the series - highlighting covert actions in Central America, South America and the Middle East - rang far more true to the mid 80's and early 90's. Shall we say more the age of Reagan than Carter?

I proffer this to get you in the mood for the era of the story. If you had an early satellite/cell phone, you know how expensive and limited in use they were. Would a sub captain need or have one for personal use? Not in my book. (Nelson, of course, had one or more!) Forget mobile GPS in the car. Unfold that map. Forget being in constant contact with everyone. Wait and worry instead. Many life tasks were much more time consuming too. Much less information was on the internet or computers then, and even when it was present, accessing it and obtaining it were more complicated. I found it both fun and challenging to strip away the conveniences we now take for granted in writing this story.

**Chapter 1 - A Bad Start to Leave**

Lee Crane arrived home from a six week mission in the Atlantic exhausted and grumpy. The crew had been overworked and under rested the entire trip. Then when it was over, Lee and Admiral Nelson had a spat.

Lee had come to dread Atlantic missions. This latest one highlighted the reasons why. To compensate for the extra cost of added travel days from Santa Barbara, California to the Atlantic, the Seaview sailed with a partial crew. Labor costs were Seaview's largest variable expense, after all. That meant extra work for everyone and an overworked crew could be a tense one.

Even though Lee and Chip thought they'd got the staffing right, this last cruise turned into one long headache. The Ivy League university visitors seemed to think that Seaview should operate like a four-star hotel. Nelson had unwittingly encouraged this by promising the guests a once in a life time experience of traveling through the Panama Canal in a submarine. At least he charged a handsome premium for this privilege. However, taking on extra guests to bunk in unused crew quarters for additional funds was a mistake that led to complaints from all sides the entire trip. By the time the mission was completed, the crew was snarling behind the guests' backs and at each other.

To make things right, after Seaview deposited their visitors on the East Coast before heading back to California the faster but more dangerous way, under the North Pole, Lee - without Nelson's approval - gave the entire crew three days extra paid leave to compensate for their misery. The crew's mood brightened at the bonus and everything ran better on the return to Santa Barbara.

Just after docking, Lee informed Nelson of his actions.

"You did what?"

"What I felt was appropriate."

"I didn't notice anything extraordinary going on. Everything seemed to run smoothly."

"That's because the men did their jobs so well, admiral. They kept you insulated so you could focus on what you love best."

"Oh, so now you want me to thank you for doing it without consulting me? Thanks for keeping things running smoothly, Lee, but just remember, it's my name on the checks! We barely were covering our costs for this mission before your magnanimous act."

"Tell me about it! You know, admiral, we could just turn down the private Atlantic work and solve this problem once and for all. Or maybe, just maybe, you could get around to finalizing plans and raising funds for an East Coast based sister sub."

"That again?" Nelson fumed.

Lee ratcheted down seeing Nelson's Irish temper flash to the surface, even though he was uncertain why Nelson was angry. "It makes sense, admiral, and you know it. Only you can pitch it to the Joint Chiefs and Congress."

"I hired you to drive my sub, Captain Crane, not to run my business."

"Forgive me. Take it out of my paycheck then!"

"Serve you right if I did!" Admiral Nelson stalked off to his cabin after securing the last word.

Several hours later, when Lee finally disembarked the boat, after doing the job of two other crewmen besides his own (owing to being shorthanded), he was understandably fatigued and cranky. Still, Lee regretted his tense words with the admiral. He respected how excited Nelson became amongst his academic peers on such missions and Lee was happy to facilitate them. He just increasingly disliked the grind of these longer missions. Maybe it was sign of aging.

Lee felt immediate relief upon opening the front door of his condo, his eyes drawn straight ahead to the view of the beach from the glass doors on the opposite end. He dropped his duffel on the floor, barely noting the odd plopping sound just before catching the splash it and his moving feet caused. "Damn." Lee's eyes turned downward in disgust.

A half inch of water covered his floors as far as he could see. Lee then noticed the tell tale sound of running water from his left, behind the utility closet door. Lee banged a fist on the door in anger before he sloshed to a living room chair to remove his socks and shoes. He placed these on the coffee table, rolled up his pant legs and waded back to the closet. "Of course, it had to be the cold water line!" Lee griped, his toes icy. He then wrestled open the swollen utility room door, nearly falling backwards when it finally gave, and cut off the condo's water main. Afterward, he waded to the phone to call the condo's maintenance man.

"Good morning. It's Lee Crane in 228. My washing machine supply line burst when I was at sea. I'm wading in my unit."

"Sorry. Washing machine is your problem. It's an inside fixture."

"Gee thanks, like it was my idea to hide the supply line cut off behind stacked units and not the builder's." Lee's complaint was met with dead air. "Might you at least recommend someone to help get this cleaned up?"

"Try the phone book or your insurance company, friend."

Lee slammed the phone down in frustration, then gathered himself. It was 6:30 a.m. on a Sunday. Maybe he should have noticed that and expected the response he'd gotten. Another couple of hours wasn't going to change anything. It looked to have begun days ago. What he needed most was a wet/dry vacuum. "Good luck with that at 6:30 a.m. on a Sunday!" Lee flipped through the phonebook uncertain what to look under. Plumber? Flood damage? He only knew that Sunday emergency service would cost a fortune and really, he thought, what was the emergency at that point?

Lee waded through the rest of the condo to assess the damage. The tiled living areas got the worst of it, or so he thought until he squished on the bedroom carpet. "Why the hell didn't I rip that out like I meant to when I moved in?" Lee squished his feet to the bedside phone and called Chip at the Institute apartment where Chip planned to sack out a few hours before he headed home to his wife and toddler. Chip had warned Lee about ownership when you travel for long stretches. Chip had bought a house down the block from his handy father-in-law for that very reason.

When Chip didn't answer, Lee left him a message. "Chip, buddy, I may need a place to crash and a little help with a plumbing disaster. Call me as soon as you can. Never mind. I'll deal. Enjoy your leave. Love to Mary and Little Chipper." Lee hung up and cursed at himself for calling. So second nature was it to call his XO with problems that he hadn't thought through it first.

Lee headed to the bedroom closet. Nothing much was damaged, except the spare duffel that he might want to pack some clothes in was soaked. His larger suitcase in the far corner of the closet had fared no better. The fabric on the bottom was sopping wet. Coffee. Lee needed coffee. He padded to the kitchen. He opened the tap and reached for the coffee carafe. By the time he got it under the tap, it was dry. "Right. I did just cut that off, didn't I?" Lee stepped out onto the patio. The sounds of the ocean were soothing. He curled up in his lounge chair and watched the surf. Minutes later he fell asleep. He never heard his phone ringing inside.

At 9:30 a.m., Lee awoke suddenly and momentarily disoriented. He was on his patio, the lounge chair leaning on top of his side. "Going to be one of those days!" He pushed the chaise upright and then gathered himself to do the same after checking out the body parts. Everything was operative.

Lee meandered back inside. No fresh food. No coffee. Water everywhere. Oh, yeah, and the blinking answering machine. Nineteen messages.

Lee knew the messages weren't important. People who needed to get a hold of him would leave messages at the Institute. It was the same with mail, mostly. Lee usually picked that up on his way to his condo, but had foregone that this morning. Given that being outside was more pleasant than inside at that moment, Lee decided he'd go get the mail before dealing with the answering machine. His box would be overflowing by now. The mailman would be pissed and he'd let Lee know it by bending and cramming stuff. He missed Carol next door, who used to check on his place and his mail, and on him too. Okay, he didn't miss that last part by the time she'd left.

"Got to give you credit, Mr. Simmons, this is first class." Lee was amazed at the volume of mail his postman had squeezed, jammed, crushed and possibly crowbarred into his box. Getting it out was a puzzlement. In his first ten tries, all he managed was a piece or a corner of an item until he made room for one finger to wedge in. At last he extracted the pile. He sorted it on the nearby bench. Junk, junk, junk, junk, junk. A letter from his friend Roger Cresson. Junk, junk, junk. A hard thick invitation type card, bent in seven directions, from Richard and Doris Mattingly was stuck inside a junk mailer. "Curse you, Mr. Simmons." Junk, junk, more junk. Lee dumped the pile of junk mail into a conveniently placed trash bin and took the rest back to his condo.

Lee plopped the mail on the kitchen counter by the phone. He propped his feet up on a stool to get them off the wet floor, then hit "play" while ripping open the first piece of mail. He didn't make much progress with the mail as he was deleting most of the phone messages after just a few words.

Amidst the solicitations, there was a message from his mother. She rambled on about his cousins in Vermont, nothing of true import or interest. She just needed to vent about some long held irritation with that side of the family, hence the call to his condo, not the office. Lee pushed Roger's letter aside for a few more moments. Roger was an O.N.I. buddy. Lee couldn't see opening a presumedly friendly missive during one of his mother's rants. The card from the Mattinglys. That one puzzled him. An invitation of some sort. Richard and Doris Mattingly from the Country Club - Lee had golfed with Dick periodically - cordially invited him to the wedding of Melanie Ann Mattingly and Roger Clark Cresson. "Say what? Damn!" Lee grumbled as he noticed the date was today. Late afternoon in San Diego.

"Roger and Melanie?"

Lee had introduced the two of them several years ago when Roger had visited Lee in Santa Barbara, but it was nothing more than a brief hello before the men headed out to the golf course with her father. Nothing could have come from it. Lee himself had avoided Melanie. Her sole ambition seemed to be to marry an officer. Yes, she was plenty attractive and could be charming, but Lee wasn't looking to be acquired. Lee couldn't see Roger falling for her in a million years. Lee paused his telephone messages as he pondered this revelation.

Melanie had moved to San Diego a year or two ago, to find more fresh meat is what Chip had suggested. Chip, who had dated her twice, compared her to a shark. Her engagement to Roger simply baffled Lee. "Oh well, too late to R.S.V.P., although I'm sure my lack of response was marked down in the rude and uncouth column. Roger will understand. Damn. I would have gone, for the spectacle alone."

Lee hit play on the messages. More solicitations. This time he let them play through as he opened Roger's letter.

"Hey good buddy. Hadn't heard back from you. Figure you must be out at sea. I was sure the invitation would get a response from you one way or the other. Call me when you're back to catch up. I would love to see you. Had hoped to have you in the groom's party (it's a thin one, since this is kind of impulsive and I don't have much living family) and most of my Navy bros are scattered round the globe (wondering where you are on that right now). If you get this in time, just show up. You never eat your plate's worth anyway. Dress whites aren't mandatory, although the ladies do so like you in them and if you show up in time, I'll stick a pretty bridesmaid on your arm and shoot you down the aisle with her."

As Lee finished up the letter, voice message sixteen from four days earlier played. "Hey, Lee. It's me, Roger. Still hadn't heard back from you. Found out from your secretary you were out on a long cruise but might barely be back in time. If so, please come. Rachael is standing up for me. She's had it rough this year and could stand to see a friendly face at this shindig."

Lee had all but written it off as just too much to deal with until the end. Rachael. A rough year. He'd barely heard anything about her in two years. He vaguely recalled that she'd been sent to the Gulf, but he suspected her tour had been long over. Lee swallowed hard, hoping she was okay. Rachael was one of them, a good egg, a dependable cohort. One of the guys. One of the few gals who ever was accepted that way.

Lee barely heard the next two messages - junk anyway - before Chip's message took him out of his thoughts.

"Call me back at the house later if you need to. You nearly missed me entirely, as I decided to go straight home, but my battery was dead. I let the Motor Pool guys take care of it while I caught forty winks. Great way to start leave for both of us. You're welcome to the apartment if you need it, although something tells me that the Institute is not where you want to start your leave!"


	2. Chapter 2 - A Pleasant Distraction?

Chapter 2 - A Pleasant Distraction?

Lee rang Chip's house. No one answered. Chip probably hadn't arrived yet and Mary likely would be at church with her family. "Morning, Chip. Sorry about the battery. I came home to a flooded condo and just called you on instinct. It's nothing I can't handle without you. Anyway, it turns out I've got a surprise wedding to go to in San Diego this afternoon. I'll be in touch later. You're going to want to hear about this one."

Lee called Sharkey next. "Sorry to disturb you, Chief. Thought you'd know who could use some extra cash for handling a small crisis for me over the next two days."

"How much?"

"Couple hundred. I need someone to pick up a wet vac and dry out my condo. Get my washing machine fixed too."

"I can do it."

"No, you should take the time off. You need the rest after that cruise."

"Can I rest at your place?"

"Everything's soaked, including the bedroom carpet. I forgot to mention that also needs to be ripped out. I'm hoping there's tile underneath."

"I can check that out. I'll sleep on the couch. Whatever."

"There's a lot of work here."

"Hah, I'll take care of it in no time. Then I can enjoy that nice beach."

"If you want. I'll be back late Monday night. No smoking inside and no wild parties. Deal?"

"Deal."

"I'll leave the key under the mat and a check for you on the kitchen counter. Thanks."

"I'll make good use of it."

Lee knew that Sharkey would do the job himself. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea, he thought as he packed what he needed for the next two days into garbage bags. Dress whites in garbage bags! Well, garment bags wrapped in garbage bags. Just wait until he showed up at the hotel. Oops. A hotel room. Lee doubled checked the info with the wedding invitation and called the hotel hosting the wedding. Nothing was available. Nothing nearby was either. Lee set off hoping there'd be a cancellation. If not, there was always the naval base. He'd worry about it later.

At least the Cobra was dry and functional. A drive down the coast with the roof open would help alleviate some of Lee's woes. Naturally, twenty minutes into the drive, unpredicted rain surprised him. Lee pulled off the road to close the roof. He was nearly hit by a swerving car. He looked up at the angry skies returning the feeling, and resumed his drive. Traffic slowed considerably. Lee never had gotten used to the fact that even a little rain upended California traffic. Lee was a half hour out of San Diego when traffic came to a near standstill. He pulled off at the first possible exit to explore alternate routes. Soon after the rain disappeared, promising sunny skies for a late afternoon wedding. Lee wondered if Melanie had paid off the heavens for it to be dry. He wouldn't put it past her.

Lee navigated the San Diego suburbs to avoid the still (according to the radio) blocked interstate. When he saw the department store, he abruptly pulled over. He could at least show up with a suitcase. Lee had ten minutes to spare for that, maybe even time for a cup of coffee too. Coffee would make everything better, Lee rallied hopefully. That proved not to be the case after Lee spilled hot coffee first onto his chest and then, as he overcompensated, away from it, straight inside his brand new suitcase. Fortunately, Lee had not yet removed the dress whites from the garbage bag. Lee rolled up the bag and stuffed it on top before slamming the suitcase closed in frustration.

Twenty minutes before the wedding was scheduled to begin, Lee arrived at the five star La Fortuna Hotel. No rooms were available. Lee wondered if it was his coffee stained shirt and wild rain curled hair that led to that answer. He'd try again later. Meanwhile, Lee went to change in the hotel's lobby bathroom. Lee noted he could sleep there in comfort if he had too. He'd slept in much worse places, although marble was hard on the back compared to dirt or sand. Lee fondly remembered a few dirt naps shared with Roger, Rachael and his other O.N.I. pals. He almost wished for that instead of this odd wedding, except he'd take the food at the La Fortuna Hotel over M.R.E.s. any day.

Lee looked dapper in his whites, although he'd admit the hair was a bit wild for Naval standards and the whites could use a pressing. He did what he could to tame the worst of the curls, but as usual, adding water only made them more prolific. With ten minutes to spare, Lee headed outside to the wedding site. The grounds were beautiful and decorated to a tasteful hilt. Lee smiled appreciatively, although a groan escaped Lee's lips when he saw that in lieu of chairs there were portable pews, complete with kneelers. Mass. Lee would have to sit through an entire mass without falling asleep. That could prove challenging. It had been years.

An usher in a tux asked Lee which side. "Groom's," he said without hesitation. He was led to the left side where a scant few had been seated, while the bride's side was packed and beginning to overflow into the back of the groom's section. Somewhere, off toward the right side and back some, something exploded. Most of those seated startled and turned in that direction. Lee at first wondered if it was a gun shot. He scanned around but didn't notice anything to suggest it was, so he concluded it was probably just a car backfiring in the distance. As he continued looking around, Lee caught sight of Rachael in the back. He checked his watch. Eight minutes to go. He placed his program on the seat and hurried off to say a quick hello.


	3. Chapter 3 - Old Friends, New Troubles

Chapter 3 - Old Friends, New Troubles

Lee approached Rachael from behind before remembering that sneaking up on her was a bad idea. Lee had done it once before and had regretted it. She had spun and taken him down, her forearm on his neck, her body on top of his. Lee had stuttered a quick "Hi, Red. Nice move." Then they had both frozen there looking into each other's faces, awkwardly reacting to the simmering connection that was both unexpected and not an option at the time. Only JimBob bursting through the door and pointedly asking "Am I interrupting something? "If so, I could leave," brought them out of the moment. Rachael abruptly let Lee up and stuttered something about Lee making the mistake of sneaking up on her.

Nothing like that had ever happened between them again. It was the only moment of their friendship when Lee had felt there could possibly be something there but for the impossible obstacles, or at least the only moment when he indulged the thought. Anyway, Rachael wasn't really his type. He usually favored the very feminine ones, preferably tall and leggy. Rachael was medium height and a body builder; it was one of the few ways to keep the strength O.N.I. work often required.

Lee looked over Rachael for obvious injuries, but saw none. Just a fine looking pair of calves underneath that dress skirt. Rachael in a skirt. That was a first. Lee caught the side view. Shapely. She'd always been that, but in a pumped up way. That was gone, replaced by a more natural figure. There were cosmetics too. Lee had never noticed her with more than a smear of lipstick. She was pretty, okay, she'd always been that too. He wasn't supposed to notice, so he hadn't. She was just one of them, closest to Roger. Many had speculated about that.

Rachael still hadn't caught sight of Lee. She was distracted by conversation with a woman that Lee guessed was the wedding planner. Lee broke in. "Pardon me for interrupting."

"Lee," Rachael said with a spark of enthusiasm that died away quickly. "I didn't know you were coming to this farce."

"I just learned of it this morning. Been at sea for six weeks. How are you?"

"Ducky. You?"

"No complaints."

"Eh hem, I need a response, Miss."

"Do whatever you think is best," Rachael huffed. "Someone just ought to stop this sorry sham." She looked near tears. "I'm sorry, Lee. I've got to get in position. I promised Roger that I'd hold together and I will. Catch you later."

"I look forward to it." Lee briefly grasped Rachael's hand. He then noticed the scar that wrapped around her wrist. His heart sank for her. Lee hurried back to his seat. The music seemed to be escalating toward the grand event.

Lee watched and waited. Another backfire startled everyone again, followed by yelling somewhere off to the rear right, probably a parking area for the caterer, Lee guessed. It ended as abruptly as it started. The music shifted again. Lee checked his watch. Showtime.

The groom's party was thin as Roger had warned. Lee recognized Brian McDowell, who walked a bridesmaid down the aisle then split off to sit on the groom's side. There were six more men seated in the groom's section none of whom Lee knew, although one looked vaguely familiar.

Rachael walked Roger down the aisle. He looked well. Happy too. Plastered on happy, Lee thought, but Roger could do that expertly. He shot Lee an extra big smile as he acknowledged Lee's presence. Lee responded in kind. Roger and Rachael took their positions.

The bridal party followed. It was large, at least in number. All the women were California fit or skinny even. Melanie's parents were impeccable and beamed. Melanie's dress was a predictable knockout. So was she. Not bad for a barracuda. Lee found himself missing Chip. He wanted someone to share the running commentary with, but instead let it roll inside his head.

The ceremony began. An interminable full mass, Lee realized. Thanks to the morning rain, Lee's whites certainly would be grass stained by the end. He should have gone with a dark tux. Lee watched and listened, trying hard to not drift off during the long and boring mass. His focus continually returned to Rachael. Lee wondered what had happened to her, how she really was. During the ceremony she hadn't bothered to fake happiness. Instead, she had assumed an emotionally neutral military pose that Lee knew well.

Roger, on the other hand, kept that broad smile on his face. Lee wondered what he was thinking about. Roger had been very helpful to Lee during O.N.I. training, particularly in mastering the art of putting on a face. Lee wondered why Roger might need those talents on his wedding day. Rachael had given him cause to think about it calling the event a farce and a sham. Lee also had to admit that he'd thought it himself on first hearing of the wedding.

As the priest droned on in Latin, another backfire occurred startling everyone. After initially jumping at the sound, Lee welcomed the distraction and the shouting that briefly followed it. Lee noticed that Rachael seemed amused by it too. The priest, however, was barely put off his game and had only extended a word or two in Latin through the distraction. Then he indicated for Melanie and Roger to rise (and the rest too, although the backfire had made that happen independently for many). A little more shouting in the background only added to the theatre, causing heads to briefly turn and look. Quiet again. The ring ceremony at last.

A few words were said about Melanie. While all eyes were peeled on the lovely bride, yet another backfire punctuated the proceedings. Most everyone startled again, turning back towards the rear right again, although Lee instinctually felt that the noise seemed louder and closer this time. His eyes quickly returned to the ceremony. This time the priest had continued speaking, barely faltering in his words, at least until Melanie moaned. A red spot burgeoned on the white silk fabric just above her left breast. She swooned. Roger caught her in his arms.


	4. Chapter 4 - Never a Bride

Chapter 4 - Never a Bride

Chaos followed amidst shouts of horror and fear. Someone yelled for everyone to stay down, or Lee supposed, it might have been to get down. After the repeated car backfiring, few had reacted as if it were anything else. The exception was Rachael. She was lying prostrate on the grass in a take cover position.

Lee looked around carefully before he got up, scanning the area for a shooter. There was movement everywhere. Wedding guests, especially from the back, were tearing out of the pews. Off to the right side, behind a stand of tightly packed potted yews that screened off the reception tent, Lee saw glimpses of people running or crouching low. Only those closest to the front of the wedding seemed too involved or paralyzed to move. Two bridesmaids had fainted.

Lee, keeping his profile as low as he could, moved left out of his row and went to check on Rachael, who remained down. "Are you hurt?" Rachael didn't answer. "Rachael, it's me, Lee. Are you okay?"

She seemed to snap out suddenly. "What happened?"

"That last noise wasn't a car backfire. Melanie was shot."

"How bad?"

"Bad. Near the heart."

"I knew this wouldn't end well." Rachael looked around before taking Lee's assisting hand.

As Lee helped Rachael up, Lee observed another scar around Rachael's left wrist. Together, they moved toward Roger and the priest who flanked protectively over the bride and groom.

"I'm sure help is on the way," Lee reassured. When he saw Roger's look and then Melanie's exit wound, Lee knew it wouldn't matter. Melanie was dead.

Melanie's parents pushed forward. "Let me in there," Richard wedged Lee and Rachael aside. Rachael caught Doris swooning as she saw Melanie bleeding out. Rachael eased her to the ground and held on to her. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Mattingly."

"My baby. My poor baby. On her wedding day. My baby." Tears poured out. A chorus of bridesmaids seemed to join in the wailing. The professionally detached part of Lee couldn't help notice how similar it seemed to a Greek chorus.

Lee continued to scan the area even as he tried to comfort Roger with the typical inadequate consolations. His mind was already on another track. After he'd seen the wound up close, he'd known it had been a very accurate shot from not very far away. He worked out the angle of entry. It had to have been from the groom's side or maybe even just outside the seating area on the groom's side. Lee didn't see anyone acting suspiciously in the immediate area now and hadn't earlier. He pulled Roger over to the first pew and sat him down. "I want to scope out the situation a little. I'll be right back."

"Rachael told me this would end badly."

"I don't think she meant it this way," Lee reassured him. Lee walked out a path of where he thought the shot could come from, including checking the pews behind him. He saw nothing. He then checked the grassy area between the left side pews and a dense stand of potted yews. Lee found nothing of interest until he was ten feet left of where Rachael had stood and his foot landed on something hard. Lee looked down. He'd stepped on a snub-nosed revolver.

Lee's throat caught. That shot from a snub-nosed gun was either the work of a very lucky person or a master shot. Lee gently slid his foot off the weapon. He was concerned with both preserving evidence and fearful of what that evidence might mean. He knelt down by the gun. "Damn," he whispered. "R.A.M." was etched in the handle of the Smith &amp; Wesson. He pulled out his handkerchief and touched the muzzle through it. Still warm and easily within tossing distance of where Rachael Ann McAdam had stood during the ceremony. He placed the handkerchief fully over it. A part of him wanted to slip the weapon into his pocket, but he couldn't do it.

The arrival of the police and an ambulance startled Lee. He stood in place. Looking wistfully at Rachael comforting the dead bride's mother, Lee regretfully advised the approaching police officer of his find. What he didn't tell the officer was who "R.A.M." was.


	5. Chapter 5 - A Host of Troubles

Chapter 5 - A Host of Troubles

The police herded those remaining at the scene into a ballroom for questioning.

Lee suggested to an officer that the police focus on the groom's side, since the angle of the shot was clear. What was clearer was that the police weren't interested in being told how to do their job by a submarine jockey. Apparently those dolphins really distracted from his marksmanship medals for both pistol and rifle.

Forty minutes later, Detective Black of the San Diego Police announced himself in charge and addressed those gathered (members of the wedding party and wedding guests and workers who had failed to flee earlier). "We appreciate your patience. We know how upsetting this must be, but it is necessary to help catch the villain that did this." Lee thought his introduction was a bit over the top, almost cartoonish.

"We will be interviewing each of you. Also, in a few minutes, our lab technicians will be here to conduct a simple test on all of you. It will not hurt or be invasive, but will involve the use of an adhesive to test for gunpowder residue. If you refuse to submit to this test, let us know now so that we can seek an emergency warrant to require it. We hope you understand that the sooner you comply, the sooner you may leave."

"Detective, I don't mind doing it," one of the ushers offered, "but a whole lot of us are going to test positive. The whole bridal party went target shooting yesterday. Well, the men anyway, and the best man who's a lady."

Lee pondered if that boded better or worse for Rachael. Eventually he'd have to confront her. He hoped to do it before the police did. Lee thought about pulling her aside even as she continued to comfort Mrs. Mattingly and her family but he didn't want to intrude and, frankly, her actions had him at a loss. How could she have pulled the trigger and then acted so sympathetically to the family? Rachael was not a psychopath. No, Lee corrected himself, the Rachael he used to know wasn't a psychopath.

Roger's arrival in the room surprised Lee. Roger certainly did not take the shot. Why hold him as a suspect? It seemed unfair to Lee for Roger to be put in this position given the blow he'd just taken. Lee was one of many who rose to check on Roger or to offer condolences. Most drifted away quickly. No one ever knew what to say in such circumstances. Lee stayed behind. "Can we pull up a corner of the room and talk?" Roger nodded. "Maybe we better make it the bathroom."

Lee asked an officer for permission to go to the restroom in the back left side of the ballroom. "Be my guest. We've got a long day ahead of us."

Lee checked for other guests. "I'm going to make this fast, because I don't know how much time we'll have without interruption. Do you think there's any chance that Rachael could have done this?"

"Rachael?"

"Yes, Rachael."

"Why?"

"You tell me."

"Lee, she was upset at this whole shindig, but to shoot Mel? To kill her and the baby, she would never, she couldn't."

"Melanie was pregnant?"

"Oh, right, we never did talk. Yes."

"Your baby?"

"It would have been."

"In name, you mean?"

"Yes."

"So you were marrying Melanie to be a father?"

"In exchange for which she got the officer husband she always wanted. Except she wouldn't really have much to do on that front as you know. Jesus, Lee, this is all going to come out now and the shit will really hit the fan."

"None of it may be relevant, so maybe not. I assume Rachael knew all this."

"Of course she did. She hated the whole thing, including Melanie."

"I wish you hadn't said that."

"Why?"

"I found a gun off in the grass, an easy toss from where Rachael was standing. It looked like that S&amp;W snubbed-nose that she used to carry as a backup, even had her initials on it. It was still warm too."

"Oh god. If she did it, oh Lee, it's my fault. She's my best friend. I pushed her to stand up for me even though I knew how she felt and what she'd been through."

"I saw her wrists. Do you want to tell me what happened or should I ask her?"

"She's not the same Rachael anymore, Lee. I wanted her to be, but how could she be? I made her stand up there, watch me marry a girl she knew I didn't love like I love my best friend even, all to have a baby that Rachael would have given me any day of the week had I let her. Then after Kuwait, she couldn't."

"It sounds to me like you are making excuses for Rachael having done this. Is that what you believe?"

"I don't want to. I wouldn't think it possible, but if what you say about the gun is true . . . Jesus, what did you do with the gun? Did you get rid of it?"

"I thought about it, but no, I couldn't. It would have been wrong."

"I don't know what to do, Lee, what to do or say. The police will ask me stuff. It'll all come out."

"You don't have to tell them everything. There's no reason to sacrifice your career. It's not relevant."

"Maybe it is. It led to all this."

"No, Roger. Someone had an issue with Melanie and shot her. She was the target. The explanation lies there."

"Yes, but if it was Rachael, it all ties back to me. To our relationship. If we're truthful, how can it not come out?"

"No one has to volunteer details like that. Rachael won't."

"Others might have suspicions."

"That's their problem. Ours right now is Rachael and how we can help her. Tell me what happened to her in the Gulf."


	6. Chapter 6 - Rachael's Story

Chapter 6 - Rachael's Story

"Rachael was deployed to the border of Saudi Arabia and Kuwait a year and a half ago. Thanks to those five hundred words of Arabic you taught us and more she learned herself, she acted as liaison between local citizens and the troops both in Saudi and then Kuwait. You know, we win them over with kindness by distributing chocolate bars and giving medical care, all the while gathering intelligence for the upcoming ground campaign in Kuwait.

Rachael actually liked doing it. She liked the kids, so much so that when her first deployment was up, she extended it. As she reminded me right before she agreed, she had no other pressing engagements. She still hadn't found that elusive right one. Me either, but I still wasn't giving up hope, so I deferred our bargain again."

"Hold up," Lee said. A man came, did his business and then left without hand washing. Lee thought poorly of him. "Your bargain?"

"Longtime ago, Rach and I agreed that if by our early thirties neither of us found the right one and had kids, then we'd marry and she'd have a kid for us. She ribbed me for postponing the deal for the last few years, pointing out that it was her biological clock ticking. She had a fair point, but I wasn't ready. Rach and I have always been brutally honest with each other."

"Then what?"

"Disaster. Rachael and her unit were amidst a group of nomadic women and children inside Kuwait near the Iraqi border when an Iraqi unit snuck into the village. They open fired. Mowed them down, villagers and Rachael's unit alike."

"But Rachael wasn't killed."

"She had a toddler wrapped around her chest when the shooting happened. She got hit in the shoulder, but the kid and her vest stopped most everything else except for grazes."

"The Iraqis didn't check?"

"No, they threw a grenade instead. Rachael was buried underneath a mass of mutilated bodies. Eventually the villagers pulled her out and discovered she was still alive."

"How horrible!"

"It was only the beginning."

"The Iraqis came back and found her? The villagers turned her over?"

"No, Lee, although that's what the villagers told the soldiers that came looking for her unit, that Rachael had been taken as a P.O.W.. What really happened was that the villagers kept her. Treated her wounds and kept her."

"What do you mean?"

"She was kept to replace the lives she had cost them."

Lee shook his head.

"Mothers and children were wiped out. She was to replace them. Whether she wanted to or not."

"No."

"Yes. Once she was well enough that they knew she'd survive, she was kept shackled in a locked hut with the village men free to come and go as they pleased. After two months, when it was evident she wasn't pregnant, they kept on raping her but also beat her routinely for her failure to conceive as well as for her continuing efforts to escape."

"How did she finally get out?"

"'Did she get out?' might be the ultimate question. I'd been pressing O.N.I. for months for intelligence on where she might be held. We were all willing to go wherever for her."

"I'd have signed on, you know that."

"I'd have called you too, but there was nothing to go on, not until five months later and it wasn't much. A jarhead on a routine patrol reported an odd bit of business to his commander. A nomad was wearing a bracelet that appeared to be made of human hair, red hair. He thought maybe it could have been from a horse, but there were none around. Then there was this odd Arabic yelling or grunting from a hut that had a lock on the outside, very rhythmic, which the G.I. recognized as numbers. They said a crazy old woman lived there, not much left in her mind but counting numbers."

"That info actually got passed up?"

"I guess I was pressing Admiral Johnson hard at that point. Anyway, it was the numbers that turned out to be the important follow up. Johnson sent me in alone, because it was so little to go on, a shot in the dark. With help from a staff psychologist who did hypnotherapy, we were able to get the marine to repeat the counting or at least part of it. Four numbers, not in order, that were part of her service number. Admiral Johnson still didn't want to move on it. He said the four numbers could be random coincidence, but no one just counts in random order like that. It didn't matter, however. Rach's commander was more than willing to send troops in with me," Roger began to weep. "It wasn't even hard, Lee. They hadn't many weapons. We found her shackled to a wall in this filthy hut. She looked like a concentration camp victim. Even when we got her free, all she did to communicate was repeat those damn numbers in Arabic over and over."

Lee's eyes were wet too. He stopped to hug a shaking Roger.

"She was whisked off to Germany for treatment. I was sent back to Kuwait for an emergency extraction and couldn't stay with her except for a day. I may never forgive Johnson for that. When I finally got back, I took some leave and went to Germany. She was looking a little better on the outside, but she'd been broken, Lee, badly broken. For a month, she barely spoke and when she did, it was only in Arabic. Then there were horrific nightmares. Hallucinations of dead babies suffocating her. God knows what else. They kept her heavily medicated for fear of suicide. I just sat with her. Tried to get through to the past with her. I finally started connecting by the Arabic lessons you'd given us. Remember Lee would say this and demonstrate it like this. Then finally she smiled the slightest bit when I did your banana routine."

"I stole it from Monty Python."

"Yes, but it was even funnier in Arabic. We all busted a gut that night, remember? She remembered. It was a long and slow recovery after that, but she came back, as well as could be expected I suppose."

"P.T.S.D.?"

"Other permanent injuries too. Scars on the outside and scars on the inside. All those months they raped her supposedly because they wanted her to replace their kids, they scarred her up so badly she could never carry one to term."

Lee just shook his head. "So she's been on medical leave for the last seven months or so?"

"God, if only. Her commander signed off on a medical discharge, but Johnson, that S.O.B. had other ideas."

"He couldn't send her out like that, he wouldn't?"

"Oh, sure he could, Lee. He took her back inside, got her back into shape, put her through some special training and thought he had the perfect soldier. More than willing to die in the service of her country, maybe even hoping to die. He sent her out twice - without backup."

"To do what?"

"Assassinations. All he had to do was to show her a picture of those villagers and her unit as they found them, suggest the man was responsible for that or something like it, and point her in the right direction."

"Mucked up as she is, she came back afterwards from those on her own volition?"

"He promised her more of them."

"All of which led to her current state?"

"No, there was one more mission. It pushed her backwards. She took out a chieftain of a small tribe who was collaborating with the Iraqis. His little boy jumped in the way as she took the shot. Bullet passed right through the kid's arm into the father's chest. Rachael lost it. She ran and grabbed the child, hugged and cradled him, sobbing more than the kid who got shot."

"You were her backup?"

"Wasn't supposed to be, but JimBob and I, we went rogue. We were in the area and found out where Johnson had sent her. We were afraid for her. The villagers came out, armed, as she held the child. They were going to shoot her with the child in her arms. She yelled at them to stop, to let him get clear, then they could shoot all they wanted. We didn't let them do that. In the meantime, she pulled out her Beretta and was about to blow her brains out. Luckily, the gun failed. Sand got in the firing mechanism. We ran in and hauled her out. She's been out since. Me too, courtesy of Admiral Johnson. Out without pay for three months as punishment. Nothing to go on my permanent record, of course."

"Maybe Johnson felt guilty and wanted her cared for?"

"It's possible. JimBob got off with just a warning. Johnson's always had a soft spot for Rach even if he is a heartless bastard."

"Should we get in touch with him now?"

"He won't protect her from this. He couldn't. If she did it, he'll be busy trying to figure out how to protect himself for letting her out on the streets with her head so messed up."

"Then it's going to fall to us to help her."

"I'd do anything for her, you know that. It's going to a complicated mess though."

"Roger, have you seen Rachael with the S&amp;W recently?"

"No. She hasn't wanted to touch a gun since Iraq as far as I know. She was a reluctant participant in the target shooting yesterday."

"How was her aim?"

"A little shaky at the beginning, but it didn't take long for her to impress Melanie's relatives and friends."

"What did she shoot with?"

"My Sig Sauer. I watched her like a hawk. It's still hard to get that image of her turning the Beretta on herself in the desert out of my head."

"You don't think she's still suicidal?"

Roger shrugged. "The boy wasn't hurt that bad. We took him out with us for medical assistance because I was afraid of what she might do if she didn't know he'd be okay. Still, I worry. Something else, something like this could send her back down that road."

"We better stick tight to her, then."


	7. Chapter 7 - Time to Call a Friend for He

Chapter 7 - Time to Call a Friend for Help

When Lee and Roger emerged, Rachael was sitting alone on a pew away from everyone. She appeared rigid and vacant. Lee slid along one side of her and Roger went on the other side.

"I think we need to get her out of here," Roger whispered.

Lee knitted his eyebrows. How long would it take the police to take names and figure out a R.A.M. was present, positioned at an angle to have taken the shot, and had been standing near where the weapon was found? Hell, they must have been halfway there already. Anyone with knowledge of guns knew the snubbed-nose S&amp;W was typically considered a woman's handbag or pocket gun.

Lee got up and approached an officer at the back of the room. "I need to call my superior officer to advise him I'll be delayed. May I do so?"

Lee, with police escort, was permitted to use a phone outside the ballroom. Privacy was a different matter. In hearing distance of the officer, he called Admiral Nelson. "Sir, I went off to a surprise wedding which has been interrupted by a surprise murder. I will not be able to report for duty tonight."

Nelson stroked his chin, recognizing Lee's implication that their conversation was not private. "Go on."

"I'm at the La Fortuna Hotel in San Diego at Roger Cresson's wedding. You remember my good friend Roger from that trip to D.C. and his cohorts too. They made an impression on you as I recall."

"You mean the crackerjack redhead in particular, don't you?"

"Yes, exactly. I know that Admiral Johnson needs the two of us for that urgent matter, but well, some arrangements would have to be made with the police for us to return to base just now, assurances given and the like."

"I'll, uh, I'll see what I can do, Lee. Anything else you need?"

"A room, a shower, an alibi - just kidding officer, that was for your benefit entirely."

"Time to go back in."

"Ah yes, my sense of humor can get me in trouble, can't it, admiral?"

"Try not to let it get you or your attractive friend in jail, Lee."

"Therein lies the challenge, sir. I look forward to hearing back from you soon."

Lee returned to the room chatting with the officer. "I was just kidding, honestly. To prove it, I promise to be first in line for the gunshot residue test."

"You were probably with them at the shooting range yesterday anyway."

"No, as a matter of fact, I stepped off my submarine for the first time in six weeks at 5:00 a.m. today."

"Crappy way to start leave."

"First there was the burst water hose in my condo."

"Sorry."

"Eh, feels pretty insignificant now."

"Bride sure was a looker."

"That she was," Lee sighed.


	8. Chapter 8 - Fishing for Clues

Chapter 8 - Fishing for Clues

Lee reassumed his position by Rachael. Roger's arm was wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

"Hey beautiful. How are you?"

"First time you ever called me that."

"We're not working now."

"Stick with 'Red'. That boat's done sunk."

"Ouch. My pride, my ego. I'm wounded."

"It's not all about you."

"I'm just kidding, Red. We've got some serious problems in front of us, so let's maybe cut through the preliminaries."

"No foreplay. Same old."

"Red, this is serious. I found a snubbed-nose S&amp;W on the grass."

"So?"

"With the initials R.A.M. and it was hot."

"That's impossible."

"What do you mean?"

"I haven't seen that gun in over a year. I didn't have in on me when . . . when . . ."

"It's okay, Red, you don't have to go into it. Where was it when you last saw it?"

"Saudi. Base camp. It was just a back up popgun for covert missions. I never carried that in uni. My sidearm and a rifle, those I always had."

"Okay, so it must have gotten sent back to the states. Where would it have been sent?"

"My place," Roger realized aloud. "The Marine battalion was scheduled to decamp Saudi last month. I got a call about Rach's effects. I told them to send them to my place. I never received them."

"Well someone did, unless it's a replica."

"I didn't shoot her, Roger. I wouldn't, I couldn't, not with her pregnant anyway."

"Not funny, Red," Lee said.

"It's true."

Roger nodded. "I believe you, although I don't think you'd have done it even if she wasn't pregnant."

"No, because you wouldn't have been marrying the stupid cow then."

"Red, get it under control. There are ears everywhere," Lee chided.

"Sounds like I'm screwed anyway. What difference does it make?"

"It does to us. We won't let you get railroaded for something you didn't do."

"Jail's as good a place for me as any other."

"I see. Well, I would prefer that it be a friendly one so let's see what our friends, Admirals Nelson and Johnson, can come up with quickly."

"You didn't?" Rachael shook her head.

"Any port in a storm, Red."

"Why didn't you ever tell me that when I gave a shit, Curly?"

"Hey guys, keep it down. We're starting to sound like the Three Stooges. We don't need the attention."

"Shouldn't you be with your bride-to-be's family now?" Rachael snapped.

"She's right, Roger. It'd be better for appearances if you tended to them now."

A few moments later, the residue testing began in alphabetic order. Lee was fifth to go. It took only a minute. During that short interlude, Rachael had drifted out of her chair. Lee scanned the room, not seeing her. He felt a little panicked knowing that she'd been suicidal several times in the past year.

"I need to check on a friend," Lee told the cop by the bathrooms.

"You were just in there forever."

"The ladies' room this time."

"You a pervert?"

"She's a Gulf War vet suffering from PTSD. The shooting really rocked her."

"The redhead who's best man, lady, whatever the hell they call it?"

"Yes."

"Go on. She did look kind of freaked if you ask me."


	9. Chapter 9 - An Awkward Place to Talk

Chapter 9 - An Awkward Place to Talk

"Red, it's me," Lee announced as he entered. "Show yourself."

Lee pushed open the stall doors one by one until he reached a locked one with nice legs showing. "I know you're in there. Come on out." Lee didn't wait but hopped up on the seat in the stall next door. He pitched himself halfway over the divider and grabbed Rachael's hand when he saw that she was attempting to pierce her jugular vein with her cluster insignia.

"Suicide by your rank insignia, Commander? That's just gauche."

"Leave me be."

"No, I am not going to let you kill yourself to avoid prosecution for something you didn't do."

"How can you be certain of that? Maybe I just put on a show for Roger's sake? You check my file. Registered psychopath. I almost got my silver cluster out of Johnson for acting like one."

"I'll dip this one in sterling if that's important to you, but you and I are walking out of here now!"

"You were always the bossy one."

"The sensible one too."

"I want out, Lee."

"You're no quitter."

"Things change."

"Then we'll change them back."

"You're as relentless as Roger."

"Maybe that's why you like us."

"I like Roger. You just piss me off."

"Okay, so keep being pissed off. Whatever it takes to keep you going."

A knock on the door stopped them both.

"Excuse me folks, but there's a military escort out here for you two."

"Nelson never lets me down. Maybe Johnson came through too. Come on, Red. Let's figure this out elsewhere."

Behind their escort, a naval lieutenant commander was arguing with Detective Black. "Admiral Johnson assures you that they will be at your disposal shortly."

"What the hell does that mean - today, tomorrow, a month from tomorrow?"

"They'll be on base here for the foreseeable future. You have Admiral Johnson's promise."

"I'll be permitted to see them when I want?"

"Yes."

Lee and Rachael moved out behind the ensign leading the entourage as the official conversation trailed off in the distance. Lee was directed to the front seat. Rachael was directed into the back, flanked by the ensign and a master-at-arms. Moments later, the lieutenant commander slid behind the wheel. "Let's get out of here fast, before Detective Black changes his mind."

Lee understood only too well why. "Commander, is Admiral Johnson in town?"

"No, he's in Washington."

"Damn."

"I have full authority to investigate."

"Are you with O.N.I.?"

"No, sorry. I didn't have time to introduce myself earlier. Saul Jackson, Special Agent, Naval Criminal Investigative Service." Jackson peered in his rear view mirror as he spoke his name.

"I thought N.C.I.S. had gone civilian. What's with the uniform?"

"The change just took effect recently, but the local cops don't know that much about us. There was no way that you two would have been released that fast into my custody without the reserve uniform."

"I see. Well, it's a pleasure to meet you. Mind if I ask you exactly what N.C.I.S.'s role will be?"

"Well, for a start, Detective Black and I are going to have a pissing contest."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. For the time being and much to the chagrin of the San Diego Police Department, N.C.I.S. will detain Commander MacAdam while we investigate the murder with the cooperation of the local police."

"Are you arresting Rachael?"

"No, it's more protective custody at the moment. I'm not prepared to instigate official proceedings yet based on what little I know."

"Which is what?"

"A recently fired gun with her initials was found at the scene."

"What if the police decide to press charges first?"

"The second pissing contest begins, this one a jurisdictional one. I'll win that one for certain. Now, how about if you bring me up to speed on the facts as you know them?"

Lee sat quietly a moment, wary of providing evidence against his friend and colleague.

Jackson whispered to Lee. "I take it by your silence that you have concerns she may have done it. So does Admiral Johnson."

"I think it's a frame."

"Then how about sharing what you know with me."

"What if Johnson is in on it?"

"Then she's probably screwed no matter what you tell me. Just know that I am not the enemy. I'm the farthest thing from it."

"How can I know that?"

"I suppose this can wait until we get to base." Jackson looked back briefly at Rachael as if expecting a response of some sort from her. None came.

They sat in relative silence until they arrived on base and exited at headquarters. The master-at-arms followed them until Lee, Rachael and Jackson entered through a door marked "N.I.S." and then into Jackson's office. Jackson answered the question before Lee could ask it.

"We don't have our civilian office up and running yet. That transition is coming in a few months as funding gets released." Jackson closed the door behind them.

Lee nodded, then whispered to Jackson. "I take it from our friend outside that you are aware of Commander MacAdam's status and that she needs special handling."

"I'm standing right here, asshole. What he means, Jackson, is that I'm on suicide watch. Again."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I'm very resourceful, you should know."

"I am aware of that Commander."

"I hope you are up to the challenge."

"Commander, I don't wish to be challenged that way. You have served above what can be asked of any officer and it would be a tragic waste to end your own life."

"Maybe you're right. Firing squad might be a better choice. I plead guilty."

"Don't even think about it, Red."

"He's right, Commander MacAdam. With your service record and mental health history, no one - neither the state of California nor the Navy - would give you the death penalty."

"Damn it, Lee. Why didn't I know that before I shot the bitch? I mean, allegedly, shot the bitch."

"Stop it, Red. I know you don't mean it. Roger knows it too. Don't fake guilt because it's an easy way out."

"Sometimes you play the cards you're dealt."

"That's not the best scenario here. Let me help. Let us help." Lee held Rachael by both shoulders.

"I'm going to give you a few minutes alone. Try to talk some sense into her," Jackson backed out of the room.

"I can't be cooped up again, Lee. It brings back memories."

"Just give us some time. A window of opportunity."

Rachael paused a few moments before she answered. "Five days. I think that's about all I can take locked up. Then it's a crapshoot. Take the pins, the shoelaces, the silverware and I'll still surprise you."

"Maybe after five days of thinking you can find a nicer way to surprise me."

"I told you, Curly, that ship done sunk."

"I'm a sub driver. We just blow ballast and un-sink!"

Rachael leaned into Lee, smiling, and kissed him on the cheek. "That may be the single dirtiest thing I've ever heard you say."

Lee's face flushed in embarrassment.

"Okay, Red. Just tell me what about Melanie got under your skin so bad?"

"She was using Roger."

"Roger knew that. He's no dope."

"More than you think."

"Stop it. This isn't helping anyone. What's your specific beef with Melanie?"

"You might say she had more of a beef with me."

"What do you mean?"

"She was jealous."

"Of what?"

"Look, she may have been settling for two of three items on her checklist, but she hadn't given up on the rest!"

"What rest?"

Rachael reduced her voice to directly whisper in Lee's ear. "She thought she could turn him."

"Oh."

"If only I got out of the way."

"Seriously? Did you tell Roger?"

"No. He wanted what she had to offer. He knew he'd never make captain's rank until he had the whole package. Look at you."

"Hey, no fair. My issues are different, you know that. I'm only reserves now. Not very promotable."

"Yeah, if you say so."

"Red!"

"Curly," she cooed, "I've got news for you. Melanie was right about me. I am an albatross. You should cut me free. Leave the blade behind."

"Did Melanie threaten you?"

"You're joking?"

"No."

"I'm not sure I would have recognized what she considered a threat. She tried guilt."

"Sounds to me like she had a little success there."

"Go to hell."

"Did you ever say anything to anyone that's going to come back to haunt you?"

"D'uh. You heard me. I'm not exactly a model of behavioral control right now. Unless of course you have someone you want me to take care of, then I'm your gal."

"Rachael, you need to stop this."

"I can't. My head's screwed up. And let me tell you something else, Curly, Johnson likes it that way."

"Do you know anything about Melanie worth investigating?"

"Whose the daddy? Is there really a daddy? Follow the blow?"

"Do you know that for a fact?"

"I know way too much about way too many things, Lee. Johnson's not gonna let me out again, not unless he controls the situation."

Jackson, with the master-at-arms by his side, walked into the room just as Rachael mentioned Admiral Johnson.

"Give me something useful just in case Johnson's a problem. I know you must have something on him," Lee begged.

Rachael leaned into Lee's ear and whispered loudly enough for all to hear, "Ras al Hanout."

"That's a spice. You're not making sense, Red!"

"You've caught on at last. Bye, Curly." Rachael walked over to the master-at-arms and placed her arm on his. "Shall we go for a walk?"

"Stop it, Rachael."

"I do have some regrets, Lee. I never did get to see you blow ballast!" She pulled the master-at-arms a step outside the door. He planted his feet and looked towards Jackson.

"Go ahead," Jackson nodded. "I'll come see you soon, Commander."

Rachael studied Jackson's face for a moment. "I know you."

"I wondered how long it would take you to remember. Morocco."

"The beard suited you."

"That's what my wife said when she saw it, but the regs, you know." Jackson nodded and the master-at-arms escorted Rachael out the door.


	10. Chapter 10 - Dirty Tricks

Chapter 10 - Dirty Tricks

"What was that all about?"

"Why you should trust me to do whatever can be done for Commander MacAdam."

"A look of recognition won't cut it."

"Three years ago, Commander MacAdam spirited me out of a small Moroccan prison. I owe her a lot."

"Good start, but it's not enough to build trust."

"She infiltrated the prison guards with a group of whores, actually mostly the wives of men imprisoned who were posing as whores. They drugged the guards and let all the prisoners go. It was a very sweet and neat operation she conceived and executed. I don't think I'll ever forget her pulling off her hijab and unloosing those red locks."

Lee nodded. "You hadn't convinced me until that last detail. I've seen that maneuver a dozen times, mostly from under knit caps!"

"Glad we know we're on the same side. Call me Saul. Now tell me what we're up against and what we have in our favor, Lee."

"You know the first bit. The police possess a gun that probably belongs to Rachael, which is likely the murder weapon. It bears her initials, was found at the scene and was warm to the touch when I found it."

"Pretty damning."

"Except she left it in Saudi. She hadn't seen it in nearly a year. The Marines were supposed to send it and her other personal effects to Roger Cresson's apartment last month, but Roger says the package never came."

"That could cut two ways. Go on."

"A second angle to consider is that the bride was pregnant. The groom wasn't the father. He knew as much and it was not an issue between them. That said, there might be a cast off lover out there who was unhappy about the situation. I should note that Rachael raised some doubt whether Melanie really was pregnant, but she didn't give me any facts to support that supposition. She was also convinced that Melanie was involved in some recreational drug use - cocaine to be specific. I'm less clear what the relevance of that might be versus passing off someone else's baby."

"I could drum up a scenario or two. For instance, if the dad was a heavy user or dealer, Miss Mattingly might have wanted to protect the baby by giving it to Mr. Cresson to raise. Anything else?"

"This may be a red herring, but the more I think about it, I find it damn odd. There were a series of car backfires which occurred just before the wedding and twice during it, once extremely close to the actual shot. I'm wondering how much of a coincidence that was or whether it was a purposeful distraction."

"All right. That's a lot to chew on. This could take some time to sort through."

"We don't have much time."

"Meaning?"

"Rachael said she'd give us five days."

"Then what?"

"She'll kill herself."

"She'll be under constant supervision in the Medical Center."

"That's probably what's driving her to the decision."

"I'll advise the staff to be extra vigilant. Lee, she'll get the care she needs here."

"I hope so, but I don't trust Johnson. He always has an agenda."

"I guess we'll just have to guard against that too."

"You could just be his shill."

"I could be, but I'm not. However, right now I've got nothing to show you one way or the other on that front, and if we've only got five days to protect her from herself, I'd hate to waste my time on that."

"I'd like to offer my services to help."

"Given our limited time, your familiarity with the players, and your extracurriculars for Johnson, I won't refuse although I probably should. You are a material witness, after all."

"What do we do first?"

"Find the baby daddy. You work on that. I want you to avoid any forensics unless I'm present."

"Understood."

"I'll be back in a few minutes. I want to make certain Commander MacAdam arrives at her destination without incident. Feel free to use my phone."


	11. Chapter 11 - An Angry Detective Wins a R

Chapter 11 - An Angry Detective Wins a Round

Lee sat quietly in the conference room for a few minutes before he came to several unpleasant realizations.

First, he was essentially in N.C.I.S. custody. His car had been left behind at the hotel along with his clothes. He was stuck on base in his stiff, grass stained dress whites. What he'd give to change out of them!

Second, Lee expected Detective Black to show up any minute for an uncomfortable interview with him. Rachael had said many potentially incriminating things to Lee. Lee was uncertain how much of what she said he could or should believe. Dare he repeat those ramblings to the police? Should he?

Third, Lee realized he had no clue where to begin looking for the father of Melanie's baby. What had he gotten into offering to help in the investigation? Lee decided to do what he often did when in doubt. He called upon Admiral Nelson for advice.

"What the devil is going on, Lee?"

"What I told you earlier, sir, more or less. Either Rachael killed Roger's bride-to-be at the altar or she was framed. Either way, she's a mess."

"Define mess."

"She was held hostage for five months in Kuwait."

"Oh my. Physical injuries? Emotional?"

"I have limited details, but her mental state is the biggest issue. I can't guess what she'll be like from minute to minute and she's suicidal."

"What does your gut say about the murder?"

"That she didn't do it."

"So how can I help?"

"She said things to me which could be considered incriminating."

"Did you believe them?"

"No, mostly not."

"I take it that you have not yet been interviewed by the police and you are concerned what to repeat?"

"Yes. It's bad enough that I found and turned over the probable murder weapon leading them right to Rachael."

"Do what you feel is the right thing to do."

"The right thing for whom is the question?"

"Follow your instincts, Lee. I've put my life in them time and time again and I've never been disappointed."

"Thank you, sir."

"What else can I do?"

"Nothing. I'm going to stick around a bit and see if I can help her and Roger."

"What is it you think you can do for her while a police investigation is ongoing?"

"I'll be working with an N.C.I.S. officer who's investigating the matter. He's in Rachael's corner, for the time being at least."

"Where are you staying?"

"I'll be on base, which is a good thing for now. I may be in a little hot water with the local police."

As if on cue, Detective Black opened the door.

"Call you back soon, admiral. Thanks again."

"Yes, Commander Crane, you are in more than a little trouble. You knew very well whose gun you found at the scene. Funny how you whisked Miss MacAdam away without mentioning that to us."

"It's 'Commander' not 'Miss' and there are extenuating circumstances."

"So Jackson said. I, however, don't find any of them a justification for your actions. You are a material witness who left the scene of the crime without being interviewed. I could arrest you for that, or even as an accessory after the fact."

"As I recall, we secured your permission to leave."

"Under false pretenses! You and MacAdam are coming to headquarters. Now."

"I'm afraid not," Lt. Commander Jackson stated behind him. "You may interview Commanders Crane and MacAdam on base, but they are not going anywhere."

"I'll get a court order."

"I'll get a federal court order which would override it."

"What game are you playing at? This is a homicide investigation. A lovely, young woman was mowed down at the altar in front of two hundred of her family members and friends."

"None of us dispute that, or the horror of it, Detective. However, since an officer in the military is under suspicion, N.C.I.S. has every right to pursue the matter and take sole jurisdiction of it should we choose."

"She was discharged six months ago! It's a civilian matter now."

"That's not accurate. She was recommended for a medical discharge following injuries suffered as a prisoner of war. However, she was never officially discharged."

"I don't believe you. I demand to see proof!"

"You are free to disbelieve what I say, but the fact is that Commander MacAdam remains on active status and furthermore her work involves national security matters so you will not be shown anything about it. Therefore, whether you like it or not, any prosecution of her - should the facts warrant it - will be handled through court-martial proceedings."

"Which won't ever happen, because you plan to bury the whole incident to protect the Navy! Well, I won't let it happen. The Mattinglys won't either. They are a prominent and respected family. All the evidence points to MacAdam."

"If we feel that is the case after a thorough investigation, I assure you she will be court-martialed."

"So you're confirming that she isn't formally under arrest yet? I knew it. I want to see Miss MacAdam immediately!"

"As I've just explained, she is still Commander MacAdam, and yes, you may see her now."

Lee's head whipped toward Saul Jackson. He assumed they'd keep Rachael as far from the police as possible. What game was Jackson playing? To find out, Lee accompanied Jackson and Detective Black in a jeep to the Medical Center. Through a large one way mirror, he observed Rachael sitting placidly on a bare mattress in a padded cell. She wore light blue scrubs and was shoeless. Her glazed eyes suggested she'd gone some place else mentally. Lee doubted it was a good place.

Detective Black looked at Lt. Commander Jackson with a glint of concern.

"I can't tell you what to expect when you talk to her," Jackson said.

"Can I take in a chair? This could take a while."

"It would be best not to bring in anything that might be used as a weapon. That includes a chair and certainly your gun. In fact, it'd be best if you removed anything loose before you went in."

"Setting up an insanity plea?"

"No need to set anything up. She has a well documented case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."

"Right, but the Navy kept her on active payroll involved in national security matters anyway. Who the hell would believe that?"

"Me," Lee whispered, his head shaking.

"I'm taking the tape recorder in."

"I'd hold on to it tightly."

"Okay, my officer comes in with me."

"Same constructs."

"You think she's going to try to hurt us? You think she could?"

"I assure you that she could. I don't think she would without cause. Now that might be as simple as to her trying to get something off you to hurt herself. Then again, she may want out from confinement badly. P.T.S.D. isn't a predictable thing. I think it would be best to send Commander Crane inside with you instead of the officer. She's familiar with him. He may be able to keep her calm. At the least, he's personally familiar with and will react quickly to her tactical resources."

"Only on the condition that you keep your mouth shut inside, Commander Crane. Your interview is right after hers."

Lee readied to go inside by taking off his jacket and hat. He even pondered removing his belt, but didn't think it necessary. Mostly he wondered what Saul Jackson's game was, playing up Rachael's mental issues and pushing Lee inside for her interview.

When they stepped inside, Rachael didn't react.

"Hey, Red. You up to some questions?"

Rachael didn't blink.

"Miss Mac. . ."

"It's Commander," Lee interrupted.

"Lieutenant Commander MacAdam, then," Detective Black huffed.

"Try again, Detective. Her rank may be lieutenant commander, but she is addressed as Commander MacAdam."

"Are the inmates running the asylum now? Jeez. Commander MacAdam, on behalf of the State of California, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Melanie Mattingly."

Lee looked toward Saul to stop the "arrest" but Saul shook him off. Meanwhile, Black recited the Miranda warnings to Rachael. "Do you understand your rights?"

Rachael nodded.

"I need a verbal response."

"Yes, I understand my freaking rights."

"I shall be recording this interview and it may be used as evidence against you. Did you shoot Melanie Mattingly?"

"Don't answer, Rachael. We'll get you a lawyer."

"Commander Crane, you are an inch from being arrested for complicity, and I will take you in for questioning next, so kindly shut the hell up as agreed. Now again, Miss - Commander - MacAdam, preliminary ballistics test match the gun found near you to the bullet that killed Miss Mattingly, a specially bored gun bearing your initials. Did you fire the shot that killed her?"

Rachael looked up pensively at Lee before answering Detective Black. "Yes."

"No, Rachael, that's not true."

"Commander Crane, if you can't shut up while I'm taking my statement, get the hell out. I'll take my chances with her alone."

"Did you plan this murder in advance?"

This time Rachael peered straight at the detective, her eyes more than a little wild looking. Lee feared she might do something stupid and held a hand up as if to warn her against it.

"Yes, Detective Black, I killed her. I killed her with all the malice aforethought a girl could have."

"Why?"

"To keep her from Roger. Roger is mine. I wasn't going to lose him to that lying slut."

"I take it that Commander Cresson did not return your feelings?"

"No, not that way, but I couldn't lose him to her. I just couldn't."

Lee glared at Rachael as she confessed. He was rewarded with an eye roll during the last part of her confession. Detective Black didn't notice it.

"Did anyone know of your plans or assist you, either before or after you killed Miss Mattingly?"

"Hardly. Good buddy here turned in the gun, didn't he? Led you straight to me."

Lee felt stung at the accusation. He had no real choice. Rachael knew that. This was a game. He glared at her firmly and the smile he got back confirmed it for him.

"Just to confirm then that you admit that you planned and committed the murder of Melanie Mattingly, and that you have given this confession voluntarily, waiving your right to counsel."

"Yes."

"I'm done for now, then. Guess I won't need your statement after all, Commander Crane, but make sure you keep yourself available," Detective Black warned. With the door open, Detective Black confronted Saul Jackson. "I'm taking this to a judge immediately for an order that ensures she doesn't go anywhere pending trial and sentencing, both of which better happen damn fast. You violate that Jackson and I'll make sure that anyone driving off this base two miles over the speed limit gets ticketed, targeting officers first."

"You have my assurances."

"I don't like it and I'm not certain I believe it either. Don't cross me."

"Good day, Detective. Ensign McGill will escort you out."


	12. Chapter 12 - A Befuddled Friend

**Chapter 12 - A Befuddled Friend**

After the door was closed, Lee sat down on the mattress next to Rachael. "Why Rachael? Why did you go along with that nonsense?"

"It's all true, Lee. My gun. My feelings."

"Oh, bullshit. You didn't do it. Why confess?"

"Come on out of there, Commander Crane. I think Commander MacAdam needs some rest."

Lee pulled close to Rachael's face. "He put you up to this, didn't he? You're the sacrificial lamb."

"Better me than Roger."

"Now Crane, out!"

"You S.O.B.! Some other asshole is going to get away with this murder."

"She thinks otherwise, Commander, and if you step back a minute, you'll see that what she just did was quite admirable."

Lee stepped out of the room. The master-at-arms closed and locked the door behind him. "What the hell is the game being played?"

"Come to my office to talk," Jackson led Lee out of the building back to his office.

"Saul, please explain what the hell is going on here!"

"Commander MacAdam's personalized gun was the murder weapon. She's been heard objecting to the wedding by several people. She had fired a weapon recently. The shot did come from her direction. Very few people could make that shot with that weapon. She'd just shown her prowess to one and all the day before."

"Lots of circumstantial evidence, I concede."

"Commander MacAdam would therefore be the central focus of the police investigation. How thoroughly do you think the police would look at other avenues considering that evidence? Remember, objectively they have no reason to share your belief in her innocence."

Lee thought quietly for a moment. "They'd pay lip service. Maybe they'd try to figure out how she got reunited with her gun after a year, but not too hard. Frankly, if there's proof it was delivered to Roger's apartment, then he might begin to look complicit in claiming he didn't know what happened to it either. Jesus. Rachael would want to protect him . . . ."

"Loyalties to Commander Cresson aside, have you considered another more calculated value to what Commander MacAdam's confession accomplished?"

Lee shook his head.

"Upon learning of Commander MacAdam's confession, the real killer will think they are scot-free. They are likely to get careless in covering their tracks any further. By confessing, she not only has protected her friends from unwelcome inquiries, she has given time to the people who believe in her to find the evidence before it disappears forever, time unobstructed by disbelieving local police."

"Five days, she only gave us five days."

"Then I suggest we start using that time as best we can."

"The hotel, we need to go back to the hotel."

"Let's go, then."

"We'll need more resources than us two."

"I have others of my own and I think we can count on Admiral Johnson to rally more troops in her defense as needed."

Lee nodded as he hopped into a jeep with Saul Jackson.


	13. Chapter 13 - Scene of the Crimel

** Chapter 13 - Scene of the Crime**

On the way to the hotel, Lee and Saul ran down a list of things to investigate.

"The pictures of the wedding might show something. We should get the photographer's film, probably from the police," Lee said.

"I'm sure that Detective Black already has that in process. The police use the same photo lab as N.C.I.S. does for film. We can probably get a set of duplicate prints with a phone call. I'll take care of that from the hotel. I'll also be collecting any of Miss Mattingly's personal effects. Maybe they'll be something among them that gives us a hint at the perp. I want you to focus on finding out as much as you can about Melanie from Commander Cresson, no matter how uncomfortable it may seem to you. That means sex, drugs, and so on."

"Roger wouldn't have anything to do with drugs. If he knew Melanie did them, he'd have walked."

"Don't assume anything, Lee. You ask or I will. Find out how they met, how long they've been dating, what they do, where they went, who they know."

"Roger briefly met Melanie in Santa Barbara a couple of years ago. I brought him to the club for a round of golf when he was visiting. Her father was part of our foursome. He introduced Roger to Melanie before we hit the links. As I recall, Melanie surprised us with an invite to dinner, but we declined for other plans."

"Did you really have other plans?"

"Only to catch up with each other more privately than we could on the golf course. O.N.I. stuff. Besides, I didn't want anything to do with her and I knew Roger wouldn't either."

"Why?"

"She was known to be officer hunting."

"Any special reason for that?"

"I tried not to get sucked in deeply enough to find out. I'd guess social status. Maybe economic security. Could be she just likes a man in uniform."

"Do you think she left some broken hearts behind anywhere?"

"Not to speak ill of the dead, but escaping Melanie seemed to be a cause for relief."

"Oh."

"She had a lot of personality. My XO compared her to a barracuda."

"So how do you think Roger Cresson fell into her jaws?"

"I don't know. Nothing happened back then and I didn't know they'd ever connected again. I was more than a little surprised when I got home this morning from a six week cruise to see the invitation for a wedding today."

"So you and Roger haven't really talked about how they connected yet?"

"No. Frankly, I was more focussed on Rachael when I did finally talk to Roger after the shooting. Sounds kind of callous considering."

"We have strong instincts to protect our friends and there's nothing we can do for the dead. Look, since you knew Melanie, you're well positioned to make inquiries into her life without ruffling as many feathers as I would. I'm increasingly curious about all the backfiring you mentioned. I'll follow that up on that."

"It could have been a total coincidence."

"One that dulled everyone's reaction to the real gunfire."

"Except Rachael. She knew it was the real deal."

"Why would she go down if she took the shot? Did she go down during the other backfiring?"

"Not so I'd noticed. The time before the real shot she definitely didn't. It was deep into the mass and frankly after we'd both been startled by it, I think we both found it kind of an amusing distraction to mass."

"Which direction did the backfiring come from?"

"It was off to the far back, on the right side, opposite the side Rachael and I were on. It happened that way three times, once before the ceremony, once early in the ceremony and again right at the end of mass before the ring ceremony. When the real shot happened, even I turned in that direction. It was like a conditioned response."

"It's likely most other folks did the same thing after the real shot was fired."

"Yes. That said, I realized quickly that the sound was a little different and closer that last time."

"Most people wouldn't have picked up on that."

"If that's the case, if the two were related, that might suggest two perpetrators. One who fired the shot and one who intentionally caused the backfire."

"Maybe, maybe not. Suppose you knew a vehicle was going to be kept running but had previously removed the catalytic convertor or punctured the exhaust system?"

"You couldn't predict the backfiring then, either the timing or the frequency."

"Yes, Lee, but it's not like anyone tried to cover the shot with the backfire."

"True. The real shot came fairly quickly after the last backfire. Maybe the timing of the shot wasn't all that important to the shooter?"

"More likely the timing of the backfiring was not of critical import. Holding the real shot until the ring ceremony, that pretty much guarantees that everyone's eyes would be locked on the bride. It could be a very clever use of calculated distractions. I can't dismiss that as a coincidence. If it's a rabbit hole, it'll be mine. You go to work on finding possible motives. Meet me in the lobby at 2300 and I'll take you back to base."

"I've got a car in the garage, so I can find my own way back. Heck, I probably could get a room for the night here now. I have a feeling they have some vacancies."

"Up to you, Lee. Now that Rachael's confessed, I don't think Detective Black will bother you. Just let me know."

"If you promise to keep a close eye on Rachael, I'll stay here tonight. I suspect the bar will be busy tonight with people who might talk freely."

"Good point. We'll catch up in the morning."

"Would you also follow up on the gun - the package that the Marines were supposed to forward? See if anyone signed for the package or if it was ever attempted to be delivered?"

Saul nodded and handed Lee a business card with his phone numbers. Lee went to book a room. It was easy. Many guests, including ones not at the wedding, had departed following the afternoon tragedy.


	14. Chapter 14 - Blind Leading the Blind

**Chapter 14 - Blind Leading the Blind**

"I embarrassed to admit how little I knew about Melanie's circumstances," Roger said.

"When did you two meet again?"

"When I came back three months ago. I ran into Melanie at the hotel bar. She seemed different, really sad and down. We talked, not really about much of anything. She was depressed about not meeting anyone worthwhile here. She thought she'd fare better here than in Santa Barbara."

"When - and why - did you get serious?"

"I was a little down myself, dealing with Rachael, being on forced leave."

"You might have called me?"

"How many days in the last three months have you been home, let alone available?"

"Uh, yeah, never mind. So explain to me how you connected."

"Melanie's pushiness got me back up and running. She helped me keep the smile plastered on."

"What did you do for her?"

"Escorted her. Danced with her. Mel liked to be the center of attention. She liked to party. I accommodated her."

"Mel's partying, did any of it run to illegal substances?"

"No, I'd have been out the door fast if I'd seen anything like that. Why do you ask?"

"Rachael said something about blow."

"You can't believe everything Rachael says. She's in such a dark place that she sees things that aren't there."

"I want you to think hard on that one, buddy, because if there's one thing I remember about Rachael, she's particularly observant of behavioral details. Remember how she could mimic all of us?"

"Mercilessly! It's been so long, so different this past year, that I forgot about that. Still, I don't know any basis upon which Rachael might claim Mel did coke. Did she tell you anything more?"

"No, and I'll admit at the time she said it, it sounded like a cheap shot at Mel. The more I think on it, though, the more I want to follow it up. All kinds of crazy stuff can happen if drugs are in the mix. I'd like to meet some of Mel's friends."

"Most of them are still here, I think. I've had a steady stream of calls and visitors."

"I figured the bar tonight would be a good place to find some of them. Give me the names of her friends who might know her best."

"Better yet, I'll go with you to introduce you."

"I don't think that's wise."

"Why shouldn't I drown my sorrows at the bar, especially if it will help my best friend?"

"About that, I suggest you contain your optimism. Rachael confessed to the police a little while ago."

"You let her do that? Why?"

"I wasn't exactly empowered to stop it."

"Johnson could have."

"Maybe, maybe not. I think we have to look at the results more than the act. She's better off in the Naval Medical Center than in jail."

"Has she tried anything yet?"

"No. She's giving us five days."

"Five days to do what?"

"Prove she didn't do it."

"What if we can't?"

"She's not planning to stick around for sentencing."

"You agreed to this?"

"I bought a little time. It was all I could do."

"Why is she doing this?"

"Rachael's not seeing anything positive in her future. The deck is stacked against her."

"I'm here for her future. She knows that. I need to talk to her."

"I also think she's trying to contain collateral damage. The thing you worried about most. If she goes down without a fight, without lots of investigation, then, well, you know."

"Oh screw my career! I'll find something else to do. I'm sick of the pretense anyway."

"I don't doubt that, but coming out now isn't going to help Rachael. Don't throw away all you've built for nothing."

"Sometimes I just want to go the window and yell out, 'I'm loud, I'm proud, I'm gay!' just to prove that the world won't end!"

"It wouldn't, but your working life would, and for no good reason."

"I have a good reason. So all the self-righteous bastards have to deal with the fact that a gay man has stood among them, fought their battles side by side, and never once forced himself on anyone!"

"I'm pretty sure you ogled me when we met."

"For like a millisecond. A guy can hope. Hey, nice effort at distraction, Lee."

"The point is that obviously there are people who know, who hold you dear, who respect you for all you have done and will do and don't give a damn. Neither Rachael nor I want to see you cut off your nose to spite your face. If you go down just because Rachael does, what interest is served?"

"I don't know."

"You feel a need to strike out, I get that. Someone you cared about has been murdered and your best friend has been accused."

"Worse. She confessed. What exactly did she say anyway?"

"That if she couldn't have you, Mel couldn't."

"Seriously? Then my coming out might help her."

"I doubt it."

"It would show that Rachael lied."

"Not necessarily. Rumors have flown about you and Rachael for years. Lots of people believed them."

"I know. She fueled them purposefully. I played along too."

"Showing Rachael has lied and would lie to protect you. Maybe she'd kill to do it, to protect you from someone she perceived to be a viper, even if your relationship was chaste."

"Chaste. God, you sound so old fashioned sometimes!"

Lee shrugged.

"You do know that Rachael had a crush on you once?"

"Really?"

"Didn't take her long to realize she wasn't your type. Well, that and the regs against fraternizing kept her in check. The Navy really was, is, all she's ever had. She wasn't about to risk losing that. It made for a lonely life for her at times."

"You too, all of which goes to explain the attraction of Mel to you, I suppose. No real marital obligations to guilt you out, a child to share, a more than decent salary for a good life for you both. I see how it could be tempting."

"I suppose."

"What aren't you saying?"

"I thought that was the picture, but it may not have been all of it. Rachael may have been honest about Mel thinking she'd make me love her, you know, that way. Mel wasn't the most realistic girl I'd ever met."

"Is there more?"

"I'm not sure my salary would have been enough to keep her happy in the end. Mel wasn't very good at managing money, which is how she ended up living at my place during the last month and a half. Her dad had set a strict limit on her allowance after years of threatening to do it."

"What'd she spend it on?"

"She had an expensive apartment, an expensive car, liked to shop and regularly treated all her friends when they went out. That'll empty your wallet quickly."

"Drugs would too."

"As I said, I never saw anything to suspect that."

"Why do you think her dad was serious this time? I kind of figured his money would always be in her future in addition to what you brought."

"I didn't have a clue about their finances until the wedding planning hit full stride, but I could tell there was a strain about the cost. Dick and Doris were arguing a lot. Once I overheard him lecturing Doris that she had as much to learn about controlling her behavior as Melanie, and that it had better be soon because there was no other choice. I wondered if his firm might be struggling."

"Lots to chew on."

"Yeah, but does any of it point to a killer other than Rachael?"

"What about the father of the baby? How much do you know?"

"Virtually nothing. Mel said it was a one night stand. My guess was that it wasn't a lucrative prospect or she'd have shown up at his door pregnant with a shotgun."

"Right, we can probably can rule out officers then."

"Not necessarily. It could have been a married guy."

"Oh."

"Alcohol might have been involved. Mel didn't skimp on that, rendering her judgment not so hot at times."

"Do you know any details about him at all, a single thing to go on?"

"Two things: 'Blonde and blue, he'll look like you.'"

"Interesting. Mel's family, they're mostly that too," Lee nodded in understanding. "How far along was she?"

"A little over three months. She had just found out when we met again. She wanted to get married before she started to show."

"Had she?"

"Not that I noticed, no. Not that I looked that closely either."

"Then I guess it's time to buy you a drink after I change clothes. Between here and the elevator, decide how you want to play your grief."

"It's not all play. I wanted to be a father. I wanted some stability when I'm home."

"I'm sorry. Believe me, I do understand that. Quite well."


	15. Chapter 15 - Digging for Dirt

** Chapter 15 - Digging for Dirt**

A hush settled over the buzzing bar the moment Roger Cresson entered. People ceased all movement, faces gaped, and muted comments were whispered.

"Hey folks, I know it seems strange for me to be here, but I just couldn't sit alone in my room another minute. I hope you don't mind. I really need to be around friends right now, Mel's and mine. You know this is where we reconnected three months ago, this very bar. Karen, you were here. Lisa, you too. I just want to be with you all, okay?"

"Come on, Roger, let me buy you a drink," an attractive blonde called.

"Karen," Roger whispered to Lee, "one of her nearest and dearest."

"Me too, Roger," someone else called out. Roger identified this one as Mel's cousin Sara.

"Hey, we're all here for each other," someone else chimed in. Roger didn't know her.

Lee moved forward with Roger. "This is Lee, an old friend. He knew Mel from way back in Santa Barbara. Today was the first time he'd seen her in a long time." Roger played it masterfully. "It rocked him badly too."

"Come here, darling. I'll give you comfort," a beautiful brunette offered. Lee, sleek and handsome in a black turtleneck with dark jeans, peeled off from Roger. He had no doubt that they'd make better progress working separately.

Lee's brunette was Rhonda. Rhonda had only known Mel for a year, but went on and on about her generosity.

"So you knew Mel before Roger came into her life? I remember her always having a man on her arm. Was she still like that?"

"On her arm, in her bed. Is there a difference?"

"Maybe a drink or two's worth is my recollection."

"Oh, you really did know Mel then! Roger was kind of a surprise choice for her. Loads of fun, but so accommodating and considerate. It's hard to find that kind."

"Most of the others weren't so kind and considerate?"

"Well, no. Loud sometimes attracts loud, you know. That was Mel's problem until Roger. Lucky her. Ooops." Rhonda stopped to slosh more of her drink. "That was terrible of me!"

"Grief can make us say all kinds of things. Forgive yourself. Can I tell you a secret? Mel pursued me for a while."

"How'd she do?" Rhonda let her fingers run onto Lee's chest.

"We weren't well matched. Besides, Mel always favored the Teutonic type - maybe it was a daddy thing - you know blond and blue."

"Thass so true," Rhonda splashed a little with the hand that was not still resting on Lee's chest.

"I take it she didn't have much luck in that department while you knew her?"

"Not so much." Rhonda took another sip. "You want some?" she offered her glass at Lee sloshing a few drops on his shirt. "Oh, I'm so sorry, tall, dark and handsome." She blotted at the drops with a cocktail napkin far longer than necessary.

Lee realized he looked odd without a drink. "No problem, and yes, I could use a stiff one."

"Me too," Rhonda snickered.

Lee expected that reaction and smiled coyly as he signaled the bartender. "Another one for the lady and a scotch and soda on the rocks for me. So, Rhonda, there wasn't anyone special in her life until Roger?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. Just no one worthwhile enough. She thought she had one snared just before Roger appeared, but I think he wasn't what she thought."

"Not really blond and blue?" Lee laughed.

"Of course he was that. Just not an officer and a gentleman. Well, I'm not sure she required the gentleman part, except in public. That was important."

"Someone fooled Mel? Wow, I thought she was sharper than that."

"Honestly, I think there was a certain desperateness about Mel. You know, she wasn't getting any younger or prettier. And just between you and me, I don't think Daddy Warbucks was going to support her forever."

"Well, that makes me glad that she found Roger when she did, knowing she had some good times before this tragedy."

"I heard rumors that his best friend might have done it, that she was some kind of crazy after coming back from Iraq and that she was very jealous of Mel too."

"Really? Who told you that?"

"Mel, for one. She knew the friend didn't like her and, what with being crazy with some syndrome from the war, Mel didn't like her being in the city, even if she was cooped up at the Naval base most of the time." Rhonda stopped to inhale another sip. She missed her mouth and a giant blob hit her shirt. She handed Lee a cocktail napkin to dry it, but he didn't take the bait. "Guess I'd better change out of this. Promise me you'll be here when I get back or I might not leave."

"If you could find me a more interesting party, I'd be out the door with you. I think I may need something more than alcohol tonight."

"Oh, that's not my scene at all. Try screaming Mimi. She'll be tearing her hair out by the end of the night if this is all there is."

"Which one is she?"

"The slutty one."

"I'm sure that should tell me, but we guys aren't that smart you know."

"The blonde with the pink dress. Kind of improper for a wake, but that's Mimi."

"To be fair, I don't think anybody expected a wake tonight."

"True enough. See ya later handsome, if you're smart enough to s-s-tick around."

Lee waited a bit. Mimi had the attention of two men currently, leaving no room for him. He picked another target. He looked familiar to Lee.


	16. Chapter 16 - A Male Perspective

**Chapter 16 - A Male Perspective**

"Hi. I don't know if you remember me at all. I think we met at the country club in Santa Barbara a long time ago. I just wanted to give you my condolences. Mel was a great gal."

"Boy, it must have been a long time ago, because Mel was fun, but a great gal, that's up for debate, not that I should talk about that tonight of all nights."

"I'm Lee."

"Randall, Mel's first cousin. I work for her father."

"Let me guess. You work hard for the money, while Mel just waits, waited, for Daddy to send the checks every month."

"Something like that. Mel didn't understand the first thing about money, except that she liked to spend it."

"I do remember that about her."

"That's why I was surprised she was going to marry this guy. He does fine and all as an officer, but I don't see how he could expect to keep Mel the way she liked."

"Did he have reason to expect that?"

"Guess you'd have to ask him that. I only know that Uncle Dick drew a line in the sand with Mel. He had to."

"Business not so great?"

"You must not read the papers much. There was the structural failure of that last plane the Navy ordered. We haven't had any big orders since then even though it wasn't our fault. I'm just praying we get a chance at components of the new bomber design."

"I hope it works out. Dick and Doris are good people."

"That they are. Shame they've plowed so much money into Mel. Bad payoff. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Loose lips sink ships after all."

"A sudden death like Mel's affects people in strange ways. People want to only remember the good, but there's a certain self-protection in remembering the bad too, as if maybe the person somewhat deserved what happened or caused it to happen, and you are alive because you didn't. It's not a conscious thing anyone would admit to, but I've seen it often."

"You near dead people a lot? You a priest without a collar or something?"

"No. I've just seen my share of friends die during war time and from other things. Some of them made bad choices how to cope with the horrors of war when they got back."

"Like drugs and alcohol, you mean?"

"Like those."

"Mel sure had a taste for those."

"Mel did drugs?"

"Coke. Caught her in the guest bathroom when she was visiting her folks. I've been staying there to economize."

"Did you talk to her about it?"

"Me, talk to Mel? No, I just avoided her. She wasn't about to listen to her annoying younger cousin. Mel wasn't a soul-barer, at least not to her family. Maybe she was different with her friends."

"You didn't tell her father?"

"No, he had enough problems without adding that worry to his list. I mean, she was still Daddy's little girl. I don't know how he and Doris are going to handle this, especially Dick with all the business troubles too. I hope they bring her killer to justice quickly."

"Me too."

"You were sitting right up front when it happened, weren't you?"

"Yes, I've known Roger for a long time."

"He seems a good man. I feel badly for him, I do. Did you see anything up there? The shot had to come from the groom's side."

"Are you a ballistics expert?"

"No, but I shoot well enough. The way the bullet hit, it was kind of obvious what direction it came from."

"I agree, but no, I didn't see who took the shot."

"Many people are speculating it was Roger's best man, that redhead. I just can't see a woman doing that at her best friend's wedding. I suppose you know her too."

"We've met a few times, but I wouldn't claim to know her well."

"Were she and Roger ever an item? I mean, that could be a motive."

"Not to my knowledge. People speculated, of course."

"I suspect it unsettled Mel that his best friend is a woman. Mel wasn't a good sharer."

"No, she wasn't, but it was Mel who got shot, not the friend."

"True enough. I just wondered how the friend felt about Mel. Even if she and Roger weren't involved romantically - which I gotta tell you I don't get because I'd go to bed with her in a minute - maybe she wanted Roger for herself and resented Mel."

"The first time I saw Commander MacAdam since Mel and Roger got engaged was ten minutes before the wedding, so I didn't get to hear anything to make me think that. Did you hear or see otherwise?"

"Well, there was something a bit weird yesterday, which seems even more disturbing now."

"Did you tell the police?"

"No, I figured I'd wait and see how the hunt for suspects was going since it wasn't anything you could act upon."

"Then there is something you should know. I didn't see her do it, but I understand the police confronted her and that she confessed to killing Mel. I don't know the specifics of why, though. What you heard or saw might be relevant."

"If she confessed, it hardly matters now." Randall seemed rather ponderous at Lee's revelation.

"I hear you, but now you have me dying of curiosity. Could you at least tell me what happened the other day?"

"Oh, sure. At the shooting range, right before she took her turn, the redhead, she toasted - with bottled water of course - to Mel. Then she plugged ten chest shots in a row. It just seemed a little creepy, you know?"

"More than, especially in light of today."

"If you'll forgive me, I better go check on Uncle Dick and Aunt Doris to see if they know about the confession. It will give them a little peace, I hope."

"Sure. Good to see you again, even under such terrible circumstances. Take care."

After Randall left, Lee shook his head. Rachael had been a loose cannon. If she didn't do it, she done a brilliant job in acting the perfect patsy. Still, Lee had to wonder if Randall seemed a little too happy about Rachael's confession.


	17. Chapter 17 - Screaming Mimi

**Chapter 17 - Screaming Mimi**

Lee fought off exhaustion as he moved in towards Mimi when her companions whittled down to one. Lee was confident that he could displace the young woman whose attention seemed to bore Mimi.

"Hey, beautiful. Glad to see a sea of brightness in this mosh pit of gloom."

"Mel wouldn't have minded me wearing pink tonight. She was an in the moment kind of girl, like me."

"Me too. I'm an in the moment guy, I mean." Lee winked.

"Oh, I can see that. I saw it across the room while you were talking to Rhonda. She was sloshing it down fast. What horrible things did she say about me?"

"Nothing bad. She just told me that if I liked after parties, you were more up my alley."

"You? I wouldn't have guessed it."

"Never judge a book by its cover."

"Fair enough. Why don't you come up to my room then?"

"I was hoping to start with something a little more sociable, which is not to say we couldn't end up there. I need more of a distracting atmosphere if you get my drift."

"Sex isn't distracting enough for you?"

"I just don't think I can get there real easily now. I'm more in need of something that makes me forget today."

"I know. Alcohol will just bring us down further. I have an idea. You have a car?"

"Yes."

"Let's go then."

"Let me just go say something to Roger first, okay? I'll meet you at the door."

Mimi ran her hand down Lee's shirt (what was it with women and his chest?) before she headed toward the door. Lee moved in on Roger's untended port side and whispered his intentions.

"Be careful, Lee. Mimi's judgment isn't great."

"Will do, buddy."

Lee took Mimi's hand as they walked to the valet at the front door. Mimi squealed when she saw the Cobra. "Oh, I think I like you very much, Lee."

"Where to, Mimi?"

"You know your way around the Mission district?"

"I know my way to it, if you can guide me to our destination."

"Fair enough," Mimi curled in towards Lee. Lee shifted up, jarring Mimi.

"Sorry, I didn't realize until after I bought her that she looks more romantic than she drives. Too late to get my money back."

Mimi directed him to a dance club. Mimi greeted the bouncer by name and he let them enter immediately. Once inside, Mimi led the way through the dance floor to a door guarded by another bouncer. "Hey, Meeno. How's tricks?"

Meeno glared at Lee.

"He's cool. He's with me."

Meeno opened the door. Mimi pulled Lee down the steps.

The intensity of the party going on downstairs easily doubled that upstairs. There wasn't a doubt why. People were snorting lines in plain sight. Lee was out of his element, but tried his best not to look it. The frantic noise and action made him anxious. That grew worse when Mimi ordered four lines for the two of them and pointed to Lee to pay since she hadn't brought her purse. Lee opened his wallet and let the waiter (is that what you call them, he wondered?) take what it cost. Forty bucks. The night wouldn't last long if Lee was buying. Lee hadn't visited a bank since before the last long mission.

Mimi inhaled two lines quickly before turning over the mirrored board to Lee. Fortunately, Mimi's attention was away from him. Lee leaned over the board, palming a handkerchief under the near end. He bent over with a straw and pretended to inhale as his preceding finger wiped the lines down into his handkerchief. He slipped the hanky into his pocket until he could find a trashcan.

Mimi was on the dance floor, oblivious to all but the music playing and whatever was going on in her head. Lee began to think he'd made a mistake. Lee joined Mimi on the floor. He knew he had to try. "You come here a lot with Mel?" he nearly yelled to be heard over the noise.

"I thought the point of coming here was to forget Mel!"

"Not as easy as I thought. How about for you?"

Mimi looked annoyed. "Mel came here plenty, but it wasn't much fun with her. She always needed to be the center of attention, no matter what. Blow didn't change that."

"I'm sure you're not the only person who felt that way about her."

"You too?"

"Not just me."

"No, she could be a real buzz killer, couldn't she?"

"Yes, she was single minded."

"Me, me, me, Mel!"

"In the end, it didn't work out so well for her."

"Road there was plenty bumpy too. If she hadn't been Miss Money-pockets, no one would have put up with her for long."

"Men too?"

"Especially them. All the time she was looking for a sugar daddy, she was the one who looked like a gravy train. Once they found out differently, they were gone."

"Was there any one she cared about?"

"There was one guy. He looked like a big spender, but he was all show. Mel really fell for him, until she learned the truth."

"Let me guess, blonde and blue?"

"Yes."

"Ever see him anymore?"

"Not for a while. Except . . ."

"Except what?"

"I need to do another line." Mimi frantically waved at the waiter. He came over. Lee opened his wallet and edged out a twenty in readiness.

"You want another too?"

"No."

The waiter shook his head. "Only one for her. We've got rules here."

Lee suppressed a "who knew?" crack. The waiter pulled out a ten sitting next to the twenty.

After Mimi inhaled, Lee didn't wait. He doubted she'd make sense much longer, not that he really knew what to expect. This wasn't an area of expertise for him.

"What happened to Mel's last boyfriend?"

"She dumped him."

"Have you seen him again?"

"Not for a while, but I thought maybe I saw him today."

"Where?"

"This afternoon, at the wedding, a guy dressed like a waiter looked just like him. Couldn't have been Ollie though."

"Why not?"

"Well, what would Ollie be doing at Mel's wedding? She dumped him after all."

"Maybe he wasn't over her?"

"Oh, he was over her, at least for a while. Trust me on that."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. We came to forget Mel. All you want to do is talk about her."

"You're right. I'm sorry. It's harder than I thought to forget."

"I know. It's like I expect to turn around and see Mel doing some lines any second. Buying for everyone. At least until a couple of months ago."

"Bet that's when this Ollie guy really cleared out, when he found out that Mel wasn't going to be his meal ticket."

"No, it wasn't like that. Ollie's a scrapper. Works in the movies, sometimes he has blow or weed to sell. He was really into Mel. He just didn't measure up to her childhood fantasy."

"How so?"

"Ollie wasn't really ever an officer."

"I'm sure he had plenty of other qualities."

"That's for sure. That boy rocked in bed. I . . . I mean that's what I heard."

"Hey, Mel dumped him. You're a free agent."

"Except he was still into her, even if she dumped him. I don't think she had entirely let go either."

"You think they were still seeing each other?"

"Something happened between them last month. I saw Mel cutting out of here with him one night. I haven't seen him since, not until yesterday . . . if it was him."

"You don't happen to know Ollie's last name, do you?"

"No."

"How about where to find him?"

"Why? Why are you so damn interested in Mel's love life? She's dead. I'm not digging this at all, Lee. I thought you were interested in me. You better leave. Now."

"I should make sure you get home safely."

"I'm a big girl. If you don't leave soon, I'm going to make a scene. There's something creepy about you."

Lee didn't wait to be told again. He disappeared into the men's room, disposed of his handkerchief, then fled up the stairs and out to his car. Except the Cobra was gone.


	18. Chapter 18 - Endless Day Turns into Endl

**Chapter 18 - Endless Day Turns into Endless Night**

Lee stared at the place where he'd parked the Cobra. He then paced up and down the block wondering if his memory of where he parked could have been faulty. No, even in his worn out state, he was certain. He returned to the parking spot again. Stolen! It had to have been.

Lee knew he had to report the theft to the police, but he dreaded dealing with them after things with Detective Black had gone so badly earlier. He also worried the cops would know about the club near where he'd parked. He dreaded being associated with it, but what else could he do? And now that he was off base, what if Detective Black tried to haul him in for questioning? "Damn it!" Lee cursed aloud as he walked to the nearest pay phone.

"Try B&amp;D towing by the airport."

"What? My car was stolen."

"Nope. You were six inches into the yellow zone."

"You're kidding me. A whole six inches?"

"Law's the law. They only take cash."

"How much?"

"Between $75 and $125 would be my guess."

"Just great!" Lee slammed down the phone. His next call was for a cab. He hoped the twenty left in his wallet would be enough.

The cab ride wiped out Lee's cash. He'd have to beg or borrow to get through until his bank opened later in the morning, assuming he could get to a branch of his bank without a car. Lee stopped at the desk. "I'm in 526. Any messages?"

"Yes, sir. You've apparently been much missed tonight." The night clerk handed Lee a raft of messages.

Lee took the pile and headed to the elevator. That's when he remembered he hadn't yet even visited his own room. His suitcase was still in Roger's room. Lee checked his watch. He decided not to disturb Roger so late. He'd manage until morning.

When Lee entered his room, he flipped through his messages. "Just checking in. Call me tonight. Saul Jackson." "Touch base soon. Nelson." "Saul Jackson. Meet him at R.C.'s apartment at 8 a.m." "Hey tall, dark and handsome. Call me later! Or just visit. Rhonda, 235." "Just got word. So sorry. Need anything, call me. Chip." "Worried about you. Call anytime. Nelson."

Lee quickly debated whether to return any calls. It was 3:00 a.m. No. All he wanted was to shower, a long hot shower to end the day that wouldn't end. Afterward, one naked, exhausted sub captain quickly succumbed to sleep in the luxurious comfort of the hotel's high end linens.

Lee dreamed something was ringing. Bells? Buoys? Whatever it was, it didn't stop, not until Lee rolled over and his arm knocked the phone off the hook.

"Lee, Lee, are you there lad?"

"Damn."

"Lee, is that you? Is everything okay?"

Lee dragged his weary arm along the floor, fished up the curly phone cord and pulled until he had the receiver in hand. "Admiral?"

"Yes, you were supposed to call me back. I was worried about you."

"Sorry. Sleep was a priority, but I've had a good 45 minutes of it now. What's up?"

"Here? Nothing. You want me to stay out of it?"

"I appreciate your willingness to help, but I don't think there's anything for you to do just now."

"Did you pack enough clothes?"

"The hotel has a laundry service."

"Do you have enough money?"

"At least forty-six cents."

"I'll wire you some. What else do you need?"

"Depends on how much it takes to get my car back. They charge per day, don't they?"

"Who charges?"

"The impound lot. It was towed."

"Why?"

"I was six inches over the curb marking. Given how tired I am, I was probably lucky I wasn't on the sidewalk."

"Where is your car?"

"Some lot near the airport, B&amp;D or D&amp;B, something like that. I don't have time to deal with it. I've got to meet someone early tomorrow. Today." Lee rubbed his forehead. "Admiral, no offense, but if I don't get some shuteye, I'm not going to be good for anything later."

"Okay, okay. I hear you. Go to sleep. I'll make arrangements for your car and cash."

"I'm a big boy. I can handle my responsibilities."

"You're trying to save everyone else, Lee. You could accept a little help."

"Sure, admiral. Thanks. Sleep, please?"

"Okay. Just stay in touch."

"Yes, Mother."

Lee blindly felt for the receiver, but it was out of reach. He pulled on the cord again until he hauled the base onto the bed and depressed the receiver. He pushed the illuminated "0". "I need a wake up call at 0700. Be persistent, please." Lee left the phone on the edge of the large bed and rolled away from it.

At 0710, a knock on Lee's door accomplished what the ringing phone had not: waking him up. "Damn," Lee cursed, realizing he was naked. "Who is it?"

"Wake up call and coffee, sir."

"Thanks. Would you mind just leaving the coffee? I'm not decent yet."

"No problem, sir."

Nice stiff upper lip for no tip, Lee chuckled, as if his forty-six cents would have been appreciated anyway. Lee threw on the hotel robe - he could be tempted to steal this one - and retrieved the coffee. Coffee. Not sludge. Lee quaffed the pot, stopping only to call Roger.

"Good morning."

"If you say so, but my head says otherwise."

"No, it's just been one long nightmare, buddy. Listen, I need my bag. Would you mind bringing it to me so I don't have to travel the halls in a robe?"

"You were wearing clothes last I saw you. You lose them in a strip poker game or something?"

"No, but where they've been, well, I'd rather not wear them until they've been sterilized."

"Rhonda and Mimi in one night. That was a lot to tackle. Did you escape with your virtue in tact?"

"That's about all that was left in tact."

"Be there in a minute for the scoop."

"Good. While you're at it, bring your keys."

"Keys to what?"

"Car, apartment too."

Roger appeared in minutes. He looked as wrung out as Lee expected. "What's going on and why do you want my keys?"

"I'm supposed to meet Saul Jackson at your apartment in a half hour. I need your car to get there and I figure you'd prefer we use the key to enter rather than break and enter. Suit yourself."

Saul handed over his keys. "These are for the apartment. The valet has the car keys. Park in it space 14 so it doesn't get towed. What are you looking for in my apartment?"

"Beats me. Clues, I guess."

"Think I should come?"

"No, I'll call if we have questions."

"Should I get a lawyer?"

Lee shook his head in the negative.

"You find out anything interesting last night?"

"Some leads, nothing earth shaking."

"Me either."

"No one's going to speak ill of the deceased to the groom on the wedding day."

"I didn't say I learned nothing."

"Anything you want to share?"

"Only that I may have been a little naive about Mel."

"No fooling, Sherlock. We'll talk later."

"Lee, I'm worried about Rachael, but I don't want to mess up anything you're doing. Do you think it's okay to go check on her?"

"Your best friend who just killed your fiancee? I think you'd best stick to phone calls for now. The press will be all over this today."

"I hate this."

"Me too, but that isn't going to help us. Now give me directions to your place. I don't have a clue where you live!"


	19. Chapter 19 - Clues?

**Chapter 19 - Clues?**

"Good morning, Lee," Saul Jackson chirped.

"If you say so. Any word on Rachael?"

"She made it through the night fine. I hear she even ate a good breakfast. How about you?"

"I haven't eaten anything since mess on Saturday night, if you want the truth of it. It's been coffee and scotch since then."

"I'll buy you breakfast after this. Here are some gloves. An N.C.I.S. photographer should be here in a minute. We'll wait for him."

"I wondered how legal we were keeping this."

"This is an evidentiary search. We'll properly preserve anything we find."

"We may not share it with the local police, however?"

Jackson didn't answer. Instead, he pulled out a set of lock picks.

Lee shook his head. "Why don't we just use these?" Lee inserted the house key correctly on the first try. He left it in the lock as they waited for the photographer. "You have any news on your end?"

"We'll have wedding photos later today. The M.E. matched the shell casing to the gun. Prints on the gun were not particularly helpful. A clean one belongs to a marine who's still in Saudi who probably packed the gun. Rachael's partials are all over the weapon including on the handle although those were the least clean of the prints. The handle was smudged."

"Someone with gloves?"

"It's possible, but there's no definitive evidence of that and Rachael could have easily done that on purpose. Otherwise, blood work confirmed the bride was pregnant. The M.E. also ran a tox screen for us. Official results will take a while, but he didn't see evidence of recent drug use in her blood, although he said urine tests could show older use."

"She definitely had been using before she was pregnant. I've had confirmation from a couple of sources, but I don't know if she continued. I don't even know that investigating that has a point except to smear her reputation."

"Might be the case. Might not. You never know where a fact might lead."

"Well, here's news. If you can accept the word of a drugged out girlfriend, it's possible that Mel's ex-boyfriend, a possible baby daddy, was at the wedding dressed like a waiter."

"You give it any credence?"

"I'd like to follow up. Of course, it would help if Ollie, blue eyes, blond hair, maybe works in movie business and may deal coke or weed had a last name."

"We'll talk to someone in the narcotics squad, see what they might know. Maybe he'll show up in the wedding pictures for a lucky break, although I can't see a photographer shooting decent pics of waiters for any reason."

"The photographer and half the guests were wearing tuxes too. I'm not certain I could have distinguished a waiter from an usher if you asked me."

"You can't distinguish Armani from polyester? You do know clothes make the man!"

"No, but try me at different kinds of kelp if you want to be impressed. More on topic, but of questionable import, Mel's father may be in financial trouble."

"We'll store that fact away for later too."

"Any leads on how Rachael's gun appeared?"

"We should have a facsimile copy of the delivery receipt later today."

"Delivery to where?"

"Right here."

"Damn. Do we know who took delivery?"

"I'm told the signature says R. MacAdam, but until we see it, we can't assess if it really is hers."

"Is it possible?"

"Yes. Roger checked her out of base care pretty regularly. The delivery date is a day she had been off base."

"I guess we'll have to ask Roger whether he ever left her alone in his apartment. She could have answered the door while he was in the head. He might never have known. What else?"

"So far the only thing we know about the backfiring vehicle was that it was a white panel van left parked and running near the side delivery entrance. We have no leads on who was driving it or what they delivered, if anything."

"Someone left it idling for a long time. Kind of suspicious in itself, isn't it?"

"Some delivery guys never cut the engine. Gas isn't coming out of their pockets so they don't bother. What's more suspicious is that the van was locked while left running. After the third backfire a hotel bellhop had figured out where the backfiring was coming from and tried to get in to stop it. He couldn't."

"Any hopes of identifying or locating it?"

"Not much progress so far, but we'll focus more on that today when the afternoon shift is back on duty at the hotel. It's possible there may be some useful surveillance video too. We'll also chat with the catering personnel and florist. Someone there had to see the van or who came or left in it. Oh, good, Walter's here. Let's get this started."

They confined the search of Roger's apartment to the common areas and the guest room where Melanie had stayed. That was sufficiently tedious as Walter photographed everything before and after Saul or Lee touched any surface, along with any items found deemed of possible interest.

Lee was surprised at how much a voyeur he felt searching through Melanie's things. He didn't see anything of obvious import, but observed that Melanie was a bit of a slob, possibly owing to having too many clothes and shoes for the available space. Receipts were also stuffed everywhere. He and Saul packed these up along with a raft of other papers to examine later in detail.

Only two items grabbed Lee's attention, although neither seemed to provide any explanation or motive for Melanie's murder. First, in Mel's dresser, stuffed beneath her underwear was a manila envelope holding a recently issued insurance policy on Roger's life in the amount of two million dollars. Lee wondered who paid for it, but saw no relevance to the investigation. Still, he had Walter photograph it before adding it to the box to be taken as potential evidence. Then, in the guest bathroom, Lee found two home pregnancy tests, one used with a plus mark and the other unused. Sadness overtook Lee. Mel may have been difficult, but she didn't deserve to die, and certainly her innocent child didn't. That said, something about the tableau niggled at Lee. He called Walter over to take a picture.

"That's kind of sad. Why do you want to photograph it? Trying to guilt someone out?"

"No, something just seems odd about it. If you got a positive test, would you keep a second test around?"

Walter shrugged. "Probably best to ask a woman about that."

"It's probably just me. Years in the Navy and on subs mean I don't keep what I don't need." Lee quietly finished out his search. He felt very down at the end.

"You look ready to collapse. Let's go get some food in you. I'll drive. Just leave Roger's car here for now."


	20. Chapter 20 - Mad Dogs and Englishmen

** Chapter 20 - Mad Dogs and Englishmen**

A hearty pancake breakfast with an enormous serving of fruit and several cups of black coffee revived Lee somewhat. Still, he couldn't shake the depressing feeling that he'd learned a lot about Mel, but none of it was useful to saving Rachael.

Saul took him back to base and deposited him in a conference room where the boxes taken from Roger &amp; Melanie's apartment were soon hauled in by two ensigns. A suitcase had been left waiting for them in the room.

"Melanie's stuff from the hotel," Saul explained. "The delivery receipt for Rachael's stuff and the photographer's prints will be here later. I've got a couple irons in the fire to follow up on. If you want to start going through the stuff without me, go ahead. Otherwise, maybe you should cat nap. You look wiped."

"I think it might be helpful to have Roger here to go through this stuff. He might understand or recognize stuff we wouldn't."

"Why don't you call him and take care of that? I'll be back within the hour."

Lee started to call Roger then remembered how snarky he had been with Admiral Nelson in the night.

"No apologies are necessary, Lee, except mine for disturbing your sleep. I should have known how little you had. Since we spoke, I've had your car and cash delivered to your hotel. Also, a courier will arrive tomorrow morning with your blues, a few changes of clothes, and a plane ticket."

"A plane ticket and my blues?"

"Did you forget? We have a meeting in D.C. on Wednesday with Farrow Industries and half a dozen congressmen. Angie switched your ticket so you can fly out of San Diego tomorrow night."

"Damn."

"I'd like you there, Lee. I may need your calming influence."

"Admiral, a friend's life is at stake. Can we delay it a week?"

"No, there are too many conflicting schedules at issue. Can't you leave for a day or two and then come right back?"

"No, I have a very limited window of time to clear Rachael."

"Lee, I've seen the news this morning. What exactly do you think you can do for Commander MacAdam given she's confessed?"

"I don't think she did it."

"Then why confess?"

"It's complicated."

"By what?"

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and personal loyalties."

"Well, if you truly think you can help her, stay. You'll be a valuable resource for her as you've been for me. I suppose Chip will just have to grin and bear it."

"He'll forgive me eventually."

"Not soon, I suspect. How are Dick and Doris?"

"As you'd expect, although I haven't spent much time with them."

"I know Melanie was a handful at times, but it doesn't make it any less sad. I'll check in on them when I get back. I assume they'll be back in Santa Barbara by then. Do you know about funeral arrangements?"

"No, not yet. I'll let you know when I do."

"Lee, be careful."

"Of what?"

"Johnson. If he jumped in to help this fast, he may have an agenda."

"He always does."

"It might not be the same as yours."

"I know."

"Don't hesitate to call if you need contacts outside of Johnson's channels. I have plenty of friends in San Diego."

"Thanks, admiral. Just wish me luck."

"Good luck, lad."

Lee felt buoyed at the trust and faith placed in him by Nelson. Even if things did sometimes get wickedly tense between them, those times were exceptions. Lee called Roger next.

"Find anything interesting at my place?"

"Not particularly. I did find the brand new life insurance policy Mel had on you interesting, but not particularly relevant."

"Given what I do, it seemed only fair."

"Who paid for it?"

"Me."

"Just swear to me you didn't have a similar one on Mel."

"I swear."

"Good. Saul and I would like your eyes going over her stuff and the pictures. It could take a while, so you might want to bring a change of clothes."

"Maybe I could grab a room on base for the night?"

"If you want, I'm sure."

"Reporters are everywhere. I don't think my apartment would be any better than the hotel."

"No kidding. Saul took the phone off the hook right after we entered. It was ringing from the moment we arrived. I'll ask his secretary to get us both a room. I was planning on checking out too. Can't exactly afford the La Fortuna Hotel for long. Would you mind bringing my suitcase? While you're at it, pick up a package from Nelson at the front desk for me and my car since I took yours."

"I'll be there in about an hour."

"Just be careful with my car, buddy."

"Have you ever seen me mistreat a lady, Lee?"

No, Lee thought as he hung up without responding, he never had.


	21. Chapter 21 - Baby Bamboozle?

** Chapter 21 - Baby Bamboozle?**

Though a nap sounded tempting, Lee had imbibed too much coffee. He decided to check up on Rachael while he waited on Saul and Roger.

Lee observed her from the one way window for a few minutes. She seemed to be behaving. Lee went to talk to the aide at the desk who had camera watching duty.

"She's been pacing some this morning. She did eat a decent amount of her breakfast."

"No utensils, correct?"

"Paper plates, bowls and cups, not even plastic silverware."

"Good. Anything unusual from the prior shift?"

"Notes say she slept restlessly. Lots of tossing and turning. Buried herself under the blanket so there wasn't much to see."

"I'd like to go in and talk to her."

"Sure. I'll tell the master-at-arms to admit you. You know the rules for entering, right?"

"Yes. No weapons or anything that can be turned into one, which if you knew Commander MacAdam might mean I should only go in naked."

The aide laughed. "I'd pay to see that."

Lee smiled and headed to Rachael's room.

"Morning, Red. How's tricks?"

"Tick tock, tick tock."

"I want to run some things by you."

"I want to run out of here."

"No can do. Confinement getting to you already?"

"Love it. Love the decor. Don't you? Modernism at its finest."

Lee bent toward the mattress. He saw the shift in her eyes immediately. "This bed certainly isn't going to pass inspection." Lee pulled off the blanket. Lee shook his head. The corded binding of the foam mattress had been pulled apart, and the cord inside had been removed. Lee flipped the mattress across the room.

"Halfway to an impressive gallow's knot."

"Spoilsport." Rachael made a play for the noose by grabbing one end.

"You have plenty of time to come up with something else. Come sit with me and talk." Lee pulled her closer using the loop she'd crafted and held one end of. "I'm not sure this would have been strong enough even if you finished it, Red, or how you could have actually used it."

Rachael shrugged. "I didn't have much to work with."

"You were right about Melanie and coke."

"BFD."

"Unfortunately, at the moment I'd have to agree. We haven't found any useful ties to it and her being killed, but we still might. The ex-boyfriend may have dealt as well as impregnated her."

"If she really was pregnant."

"Forensics confirmed she was. Did you really doubt it?"

"I didn't believe a damn thing she said."

"You really are bitter toward her. Why?"

"Didn't you hear my confession? Neither of us were willing to share Roger, and in case you hadn't heard, I'm into assassination on a regular basis now. Gets easier every time." Rachael pretended to shoot.

"You mean like the one Roger and JimBob bailed you out of, where you hit the kid first and lost it? No sale, Red."

"Yeah, but I never believed Melanie was preggers."

"You wouldn't have chanced it. Look, I do need your insight into something, probably irrelevant, but it struck me as odd. In the bathroom at Roger's, Melanie had two home pregnancy tests. One was positive and the other was unused. For some reason I can't put my finger on, it struck me as odd. Why would she keep those?"

"I don't know. They sell them in two-packs most of the time, I think, and they're not cheap. I don't know how long they are good for, but I don't suppose you'd hurry to throw out an unneeded one. . . . Shit, I might have been right after all, at least at the beginning."

"About what?"

"Curly, supposedly she was preggers before she moved in with Roger. Why the hell would she have moved either of the tests?"

"She might have been sentimental about it."

"Seemed like she was anything but. It was a huge problem for which she needed Roger to bail her out. Would you take that positive test with you?"

"I suppose not, but the M.E. confirmed she was pregnant."

"How pregnant? Maybe she wasn't really pregnant when Roger took her in? Did you notice even a hint of a baby bump? Maybe it was all a ploy?"

"To what end?"

"I don't know. I just know the whole thing was wrong."

"We do know that Mel needed money for support right away, but Roger wasn't exactly going to be the same gravy train as her father. Frankly, he would have been worth more to her dead."

"Huh?"

"Mel had an enormous, brand spanking new life insurance policy on Roger. He even bought it for her. For her and the baby."

"I think you're a dud as a detective, Curly. In case you missed it, Roger's perfectly healthy."

"I know. I suppose that's a lead to nowhere. I think I'd best focus on the baby's father, and whether there was a baby then no baby and then a baby again?" Lee scratched his head in confusion.

Rachael laughed.

"What's so funny, Red?"

"I've got you believing now."

"Believing what?"

"What a lying, scheming bitch she was."

"How so? Maybe she was pregnant and miscarried. Roger was marrying her to share a child, so if that happened, maybe she wanted to keep up her end of the bargain."

"Curly, if that was the case, why not be honest and ask Roger to donate his sperm and give him a real baby of his own instead of using some other asshole as a sperm bank?"

"What would he have done?"

"Mr. Honorable? Please. Hand him a jar."

"I think that all just leads us back to the original question: how the real daddy felt about being used as Mel's sperm bank?"

"How would you have felt?"

"For Mel? That might have been the donation that kept on giving, in ways one could regret."

"You'd consider it for someone else?"

"Maybe. I've never been asked."

"I considered it."

"I'm flattered."

"You should be. I'm very choosy." Rachael laughed maniacally, then suddenly pushed Lee aside. "Get the hell out of here. Now."

"What's the matter, Red?" Lee wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"I've already been killed with kindness once. I don't need you doing it again." Rachael abruptly pulled away and crossed to the furthest corner of the room where she slunk down against the wall, her arms folded over.


	22. Chapter 22 - Killed with Kindness

** Chapter 22 - Killed with Kindness**

"What do you mean you've been killed by kindness?" Lee asked as he slowly approached Rachael.

"It's ironic," Rachael chuckled.

"What is?"

"You could say Roger sort of killed Melanie with kindness too. By pitying her, by marrying her. Just for a baby."

Lee moved closer to Rachael, backing up next to her along the wall and sliding down to a sit. "What do you mean that you were killed by kindness, Red?"

Rachael's eyes looked glazed. "I didn't even tell Roger. It's dark."

"I've been through some dark stuff, Red. I don't know if I can help, but I can at least listen."

"Was anybody ever so kind to you that they ending up hurting you more than people who you expected to hurt you?"

"No."

"You know what happened to me? Roger told you everything?"

"I think so."

"He doesn't know about Ahmed."

"Who was Ahmed?"

"He was the kind one. The one who tended my wounds. Fed me antibiotics provided by my unit. Brought me decent food. Helped me bathe. What he wouldn't do was help me escape."

"Why not?"

"He wanted the same thing the others wanted. For me to replace the wives and children the Iraqis killed because we were there. He just wasn't so concerned with punishing me for it like the others. So when Ahmed came through the door, I was always relieved to see it was him even if I knew he would fuck me. He was kind and gentle. He said sweet things. He even apologized. He treated me as kindly as could be imagined under the circumstances. I guess you could say he was the nice rapist."

"Stockholm syndrome?"

"No, Ahmed didn't have the intellect to play that game and I had too many other miserable visitors for it to matter."

"Then what happened?"

"I'd been there nearly three months, relieved as always when I saw it was Ahmed who had come through the door. Just like always, he was kind and sweet. He did what he was supposed to do without unnecessary roughness, with tenderness even. Then he withdrew and saw blood all over his cock. I'd begun menstruating. Ahmed went into a rage. I'd been unclean with him. He railed about how I'd repaid his kindness by defiling him and not getting pregnant. Then he beat me worse than any of them had before. That's when I broke, Lee. When the last hope died. He came back nearly every day after that to continue what he'd started. My sole solace turned into my worst nightmare."

"I'm so sorry, Red. I can't imagine."

"No, you can't. I just wanted to die. How can we want so badly to die and our bodies betray us?"

"Maybe because second chances are still possible?"

"Yeah, some second chance. I'm certified cuckoo now. Can't have a baby either. Guess that's for the best considering."

"You've still got friends."

Rachael exploded into Lee, pinning him down on the mattress. She pressed her right forearm into Lee's jugular. "Friends turn on you. Haven't you been listening?"

Lee stayed beneath her, remaining placid, drawing in shallow breaths, waiting her out. They stared at each other, neither moving. Lee didn't feel afraid of her after a few seconds. Instead, he felt the same electricity he'd felt the last time they were in this position. Rachael soon dropped her arm from his neck. Lee reached his arm around her neck and kissed her. "Some things are worth sticking around for, Red."

Rachael skittered up and away from Lee, turning toward the wall and then slumping down in a heap along it. "Get the hell out of here, Crane. Don't come back!"

"Oh, I'll be back, Red. We have unfinished business."

Lee dropped his hand to retrieve the noose off the floor and knocked at the door until he was permitted to leave. Outside, he leaned against the glass staring at Rachael wondering what the hell had just happened.


	23. Chapter 23 - Coalescence

** Chapter 23 - Coalescence**

Roger was in the conference room when Lee arrived.

"How's Rachael?"

"Screwed up. Worse than I imagined. Understandably so. I don't want to talk about it. We're on borrowed time."

Saul Jackson breezed in the room with a stack of pictures and an envelope. "Photographer's pics and the delivery receipt. Roger, look at the delivery receipt. Is that Rachael's signature, if you would know?"

"No, this is definitely not Rachael's." Roger looked upset. "It's Mel's. She must have signed for it when I wasn't home."

"Are you positive?"

"The 'M' in MacAdam, that loopy feminine one, is definitely Mel's. I've seen it enough in the past week alone to be certain."

Saul reached in Mel's handbag for her wallet. He opened it up. "He's right."

"Damn," Lee carped. "What does that mean for us? Without Mel to ask about it?"

"There are only a few possibilities, Lee. She might have thrown out the whole package and someone else got hold of it. Maybe she gave the package to Rachael. Maybe she opened it and then disposed of the gun somehow. She could have sold or pawned it."

"Rule out the first two. If Mel signed for it, she definitely would have opened it. She never would have given Rachael the gun. As to the getting rid of it, it's probable."

"Why?"

"Mel didn't care for guns. She wouldn't join us at the firing range and she was really very firm about what I'd need to do to secure my weapons when the baby came."

"Then she gave the gun away or sold it. How the hell are we going to trace that?" Lee asked.

"Interview her friends, for one. Check local pawn shops for another. Are you sure you can continue to work on this, Lee? You seem really rattled," Saul said.

"I am a bit. Too little sleep, too much caffeine, and Rachael threw me off balance."

"You want to take a break? Roger and I can push forward."

"No, I want to follow up on some ideas Rachael and I talked about, like the pregnancy. Roger, exactly how pregnant was Mel and how did you know?"

"Oh, don't tell me Rachael pushed that idea in your ear?"

"Someone fill me in what you are referring to, please?" Saul asked.

"Just how pregnant Mel really was, when did it happen, et cetera. So, Rog, objectively speaking, what did you know?"

"Mel had just found out she was pregnant when we met."

"At a bar?"

"Look, Mel wasn't about to turn into an angel for a baby. Her mother survived cocktail hour and she said this baby would too."

"So that was about three months ago?"

"Yes."

"You told me earlier that you didn't notice her showing at all."

"No, but I didn't look that closely and it's not unusual not to show that early according to the books I read."

"You would."

"Yes, I would."

"So how could you be certain she was pregnant?"

"Morning sickness. She had prenatal vitamins from her Ob-Gyn. That was enough for me, at least until Rachael kept pushing me and pushing Mel for details."

"What happened?"

"I'm embarrassed to admit it, but about a month and a half ago, Rachael got to me. She had been over - when Mel was out - and started in on questions about why Mel had feminine hygiene products in the bathroom if she was pregnant. I didn't see the big deal. You might have noticed that Mel was a bit sloppy. I figured that when she moved she dumped stuff from her drawers into a box and then back into drawers at my place."

"That was the end of it?"

"No, Rachael challenged Mel. There was a phone call. Mel was upset by it."

"I assume you told Rachael to back off?"

"I did, but I did ask Mel some questions that I hadn't earlier. Like who her doctor was. The due date. Could I go with her to an appointment?"

"What'd she say?"

"She picked up the phone and made an appointment for us after the wedding. She explained that the doctor didn't want to see her until then anyway unless something went wrong. Mel got a little upset at it all. She asked me if that was enough proof for me. I said it was fine. She just had to understand where Rachael was coming from."

"Did she?"

"No, which was ironic given that Mel was doing for me what Rachael would probably have done otherwise. Well mostly."

"Rachael would have used your sperm."

"Right, but of course Mel was already pregnant so that never came into discussion. Anyway, a week or two later we were talking about buying a house before the baby came and Mel came in and showed me a home pregnancy test she'd taken so I could get Rachael to shut up. It was positive."

Saul rubbed his temple.

"You have a thought, Saul?" Lee asked.

"Yeah, I do. Let's go through Melanie's stuff from the apartment and her personal items next."

"Focussing on what?" Roger asked.

"Receipts first. Store receipts. Then maybe her calendar and phone book."

A half hour later, Saul softly said: "Bingo." Lee and Roger snapped to attention. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

Lee and Roger stared at each other puzzled.

Saul returned five minutes later.

"What did you find?" Roger asked.

"A receipt dated just over a month ago for a home pregnancy test, a two pack."

"That just confirms what I said earlier," Roger said.

"I'm not certain. When Lee first found the tests, I ran the idea by my secretary - she's expecting her fourth kid any day now. I was puzzled like Lee by why Melanie would have moved the tests with her, including the used one. My secretary said if it was hers, had it been an unwanted pregnancy, she'd have hurled it in the trash right away. She couldn't imagine a different response."

"Yes, but now we know she didn't move them, just proving my point that she was showing her good faith to me."

"Ah, maybe not. I just asked my secretary about that possibility, that if someone demanded proof, how you'd go about it if you were already certain you were pregnant. Her answer was that you wouldn't spend nearly double the amount on a two-test kit when one would obviously suffice. They sell them singly."

"She doesn't know Mel. Mel just probably grabbed the first one she saw, top shelf brand, top shelf price."

Maybe, maybe not. Maybe something else was going on?"

"I think we are spinning wheels here, guessing at Mel's shopping and storage habits," Lee said.

"That's why I put in a call into the clinic where Mel went for the vitamins. Let me see if Susan has heard back."

Moments later, a very swollen bellied secretary came into the conference room.

"You got it?"

"Yes, and you promised time and a half today, right?"

"Double time if this is good."

"It is. Dr. Lara Wildman confirmed Melanie Mattingly's pregnancy with a blood test three months and seven days ago. She prescribed prenatal vitamins and set up a return visit that should have been last week. Four weeks later, the patient experienced bleeding and came to the clinic. She had miscarried. The patient was very distressed. A routine D&amp;C was performed. The outcome and prognosis for future pregnancies was considered excellent. The patient was counseled regarding future attempts at pregnancy and encouraged to wait six months. The patient returned for another blood test just over four weeks later. Pregnancy was confirmed and prenatal advice given. Patient was given appointment scheduling calendar. Patient called and scheduled an appointment for approximately two weeks from today."

"Rachael knew it. How the hell did she know it?"

"She's very perceptive about people, Roger. We've known that for a long time."

"I didn't listen. If I had, Mel would be alive. Rachael would be free."

"This isn't helping, gentlemen. What will help is to find the father and the shooter, if it isn't the same as the father. Roger, you go through Melanie's handbag and look for a phone number, a date, an address, anything that might relate to this guy named 'Ollie.' Lee and I will go through the rest of the stuff from the apartment. Then we'll go through the pictures together. I have doubts they'll be much help."

Lee nodded. They quietly began to paw through Mel's possessions. Saul got up to use the phone. "Susan, order in lunch and coffee for us. Triple time, sweetie. Afterward, go home and put up your feet. Thanks."

Lee flipped through more of Mel's receipts and notes. It was an indiscriminate mess of stuff. He found nothing. Saul brought up a box that Lee hadn't seen collected.

"It was in a high kitchen cabinet, stuffed in a back corner. I needed to stand on the counter for it. The loopy handwriting on the outside reading 'Personal Stuff' suggested to me it was Melanie's. Odd hiding place, however."

"To keep it away from Rachael," Roger said absentmindedly, his focus on a calendar page. "Damn. She really played me."

"What have you got?"

"I'm no expert, but this appears to be a countdown."

"Go on."

"From MP to Ovulat. It ran from nearly two months ago forward."

"Sorry, Roger."

"What does it mean? She didn't trust me enough to tell me? Or she didn't want me to be the real daddy? This makes it seem like she really wanted to pass off someone else's baby as mine."

"Backed up by a hefty life insurance policy on you," Saul said.

"I'm alive. She isn't. That can't be the right focus!" Roger slammed a fist on the table.

"There are generally two motives for murder: passion or money. Maybe Melanie had a deal with the baby's father that went bad or that she couldn't go through with. Who knows? It could be related, it might not be. We just have to keep plugging," Saul insisted.

Then Saul stopped in his tracks as he pawed through the "personal" box. "That answers that mystery." Saul put the oversized air mail envelope on the table. "The stuff they sent back to Rachael."


	24. Chapter 24 - Unpleasant Blasts from the

**Chapter 24 - Unpleasant Blasts from the Past**

"Kind of flimsy for personal effects, isn't it?" Saul remarked.

"It was just supposed to be an envelope. They didn't bother sending her clothes back and Rachael didn't travel with any personal possessions other than her weapons."

"O.N.I. training," Lee added.

Saul picked up the envelope and dumped the contents in front of him. "Letters from you, Roger, all opened. A couple of letters in Arabic. They're still sealed. Guess we'll need to get a translator in here. That could take a while."

Lee reached for the envelopes. Roger saw Lee gulp.

"Lee, what do they say?"

"Rachael MacAdam, 466-298-0328."

"Her service number," Roger sighed.

"Well, they do belong to Rachael. Maybe we should take them to her," Saul offered.

"No!" Lee said as he felt through the thin paper of one. "There's something in this one other than a letter."

"It's too small to be a bomb," Saul reassured.

"Let me see it," Roger said. He felt through it. "Oh, Jesus. It might as well be a bomb." Roger's hands shook as he opened it. A bracelet made from bright auburn hair fell out. Roger turned and threw up.

"Why the hell would this be in with Rachael's personal stuff?" Lee grabbed the envelope and reached inside and found a note, also in Arabic. Lee couldn't understand every word, but he understood enough.

"Do you know what it says? Who it's from?" Saul asked.

"It's got nothing to do with Mel's murder. I can't tell you. Leave it at that." Lee reluctantly reached for the other letter and opened it. "More of the same. We need to destroy them."

Saul reached across the table for them. Lee stopped him by grabbing his wrist roughly.

"Lee, they are evidence in a murder investigation. I can't let you destroy them."

"You still have the envelope with the other stuff. You don't need these. There's no possible connection to Melanie's murder."

"Maybe they'll be helpful to Rachael's treatment?"

"No." Lee pulled back with the letters in hand. He threw them into a trash can. He reached back to the credenza and pulled a lighter off of it.

"Lee, I can't be party to this," Saul said.

"Then I suggest you go out for a few minutes." Lee set fire to a corner of one envelope and dropped it back into the waste can.

"What was in those letters, Lee?"

"Bad memories."

"I'm glad she never saw them then."

"Mel did her a favor by intercepting these, Roger. She paid a hefty price too."

"I'll get rid of the bracelet later. I don't think my stomach could take the smell of burning hair right now."

"Agreed."


	25. Chapter 25 - Pictures Don't Lie or Do Th

**Chapter 25 - Pictures Don't Lie or Do They?**

Saul returned twenty minutes later with lunch. Nothing more was mentioned of the letters. They ate quietly, Roger quite lightly after his vomiting episode. Then they began the tedious task of going through the wedding pictures.

"Remind me what we are looking for?" Roger asked.

"The baby daddy, anyone with a grudge, anything out of the ordinary, like a blond and blue waiter."

It was quickly evident to Lee that blond and blue was most of the bridal party and plenty of others. "Focus is on the groom's side or just outside of it."

The photographer's pictures were tight to the ceremony and there wasn't much to see outside the pew area. There wasn't much focus on the groom's side either, perhaps owing to the sparse attendance.

Roger flipped picture after picture saying little. "Crappy shot. Surprised he printed it."

"He was told to print them all," Saul reminded. "Crime scene pics, not wedding pics, remember?"

"Here's another. Blurred."

"That was probably during a backfire," Lee noted.

Roger kept flipping, reaching yet another motion blurred picture taken on the grounds during set up.

"There's a corner of a van back there," Lee remarked, "but nothing identifying about it. Damn."

"We'll get it blown up, just in case. We may still get some video from the hotel cameras. It's a tedious process getting their tapes. They've insisted on a subpoena that is very specific, to protect the privacy of their guests. You'd think they'd be more interested in solving the murder of a guest."

Lee and Roger kept passing pictures around the table.

"Aw, geez," Roger sighed and passed the print to Lee.

"Damn." They'd reached the sad picture capturing Mel beginning to bleed.

They kept going, the mood in the room going in a downward spiral.

"There's nothing here!" Lee complained.

"Go through again in case you are missing something," Saul advised.

Roger started back at the beginning of the pile, the rehearsal pictures.

"Mel sure does have lots of Teutonic looking relatives," Lee observed. "That's her cousin Randall. He was an usher, right?"

"I . . . I couldn't say for sure who that is."

"Why?"

"Look at this rehearsal picture again."

"They all look similar. These two are dead ringers, though."

"Right, Randall and his twin, Thomas."

"I think one of them walked me to my seat. I didn't see him in a picture, but I'm certain an usher with similar looks sat a row or two behind me, far left. I couldn't guess which one though," Lee said.

"We'll have to follow up on that with interviews," Saul said.

"Randall made it sound like he was on the other side," Lee said.

"That's an odd turn of phrase."

"He's an odd duck. He suspected Rachael before he knew about her confession. He intimated to me she foreshadowed the shooting the day before while at the shooting range."

"Unfortunately, she did, Lee, whether or not she meant to," Roger shook his head.

"So much for discounting Randall," Lee carped. "Still, there was something about him that seemed off. He seemed kind of gleeful when I told him Rachael confessed."

"Wouldn't you be if you were a relative? Beats a long manhunt and trial," Saul said.

"I suppose."

"Hey, look at this one," Saul pulled one from the box.

"Another blurry one, so?" Roger asked.

"What does this look like to you?"

Lee answered. "Tripod legs, behind and between the potted plants that partitioned off the wedding from the grounds on the groom's side. But that doesn't make sense. The photographer was positioned at the back of the center aisle."

"Maybe there was an assistant?" Saul asked.

"Behind the plants?"

"There's a few inches gap, enough to stick a lens through if you wanted a better angle of the ceremony."

"It's possible. The priest wouldn't let the photographer up front for close ups during the ceremony. We had to use rehearsal pictures for that. Maybe Mel wanted photos of the real thing and arranged for it to be done on the sly. I wouldn't put it past her."

"Except there are no photos from that side. Roger, what do you know about the photographer?" Saul asked.

"Nothing. Mel took care of that. She took care of nearly everything. You were sitting over there, did you notice anyone taking pictures?"

"I couldn't say one way or another. Wedding photographers are kind of everywhere yet invisible."

"I'll call the photographer," Saul volunteered and stepped out.

"Look at Rachael in this one. She wore makeup for me. I feel like shit for forcing her into this now. How is she today?"

"She ripped apart the mattress binding and was crafting a noose from it."

"Shit."

"She's . . . erratic. Crazy one minute. Not so crazy the next."

"That's how it's been for months. I had no business involving her in the wedding."

"I'm not usually one to play the blame game, but I'm going to agree on that one." Lee got up and paced, regretting taking the cheap shot at Roger. He fiddled with his pockets. "Oh, here are your keys. Glad to see you've upgraded your taste in cars. I wouldn't have guessed you for that shade of blue but it beats your nasty old brown sedan fetish."

"That wasn't my car you took. It was Mel's."

"Figures."

"Mel wouldn't be caught dead in my sedan, even though her top leaks. She risked getting her wedding dress wet she was so adamant that we take her car to the hotel instead of mine."


	26. Chapter 26 - Catching Breaks

** Chapter 26 - Catching Breaks**

Saul returned and took a phone call.

"We've got a partial plate on the van, but I'm not optimistic given how generic it is," Saul announced upon arrival. No one seems to know to whom it belonged. Maybe if we narrow down the make."

"Ford," both Lee and Roger said.

"You know this, why?"

"The picture earlier. We've been transported in that one enough times," Roger volunteered. "O.N.I. training special."

"Okay, maybe that will help." Saul picked up the phone and suggested narrowing the search to a Ford. He then switched lines to take a waiting call. "The photographer worked alone. Before the ceremony started, he caught sight of a man with a professional grade videocamera and a tripod, but he didn't know him, and he says he knows all the good videographers. He never had a chance to talk to him or ask about him. Do you know anything about hiring this guy?"

"No, I wasn't involved in any of that. Mel never mentioned video specifically. Maybe her family knows. Dick would have written the check."

"Would you call and ask him?"

Roger moved to a side desk with a phone to make the call. Several minutes later he reported. "No, they don't know anything about a videographer."

"What else did the photographer say about the guy?" Lee asked.

"He was wearing a tux and was a blonde. Absent the expensive video recorder, he could have passed as a guest, a waiter or even an usher. This Ollie guy - Mimi said he worked in the movies some. Maybe he does camera work?"

"That's not much to go on," Lee said.

"So what's next?" Roger asked.

"The tedious part of investigative work. We go through every piece of paper of Mel's, call every phone number asking for Ollie."

"It would help if she had kept a phone book," Lee said.

"She did."

"Where is it?"

"I don't know."

"Her car, maybe?"

"Knowing Mel it as easily could be stuffed between the sofa cushions."

"Let me go back to your apartment to check."

"I can go."

"No, you're more likely to recognize names and connections of Mel's in this stuff. Stick with this." Lee headed out the door.

Roger followed Lee out with keys in hand. "You'll need these back." He closed the door behind them. "Lee, what did those letters say?"

"You don't need to know the details."

"Was there anything in there that might help me help Rachael?"

Lee paused a moment. "Don't be too kind to her."

"What does that mean?"

"Be her O.N.I. comrade, not her best friend. She may respond better to tough love."

"I don't get it."

"It's not for me to tell."

"She held back stuff from me?"

Lee nodded.

"She told you? Why you?"

Lee shrugged. "Maybe because I pissed her off."

Roger moved in close to Lee and whispered. "F.Y.I., I didn't want to mention this in front of Saul, but when I met her cousins Randall and Thomas I was certain that I'd seen one of them before. At a bar. You know."

"Do you think that's relevant to anything?"

"Can't see how. Just putting it out there. Lee, I don't suppose you could get a ride to my apartment and bring my car back? I hate depending on anyone for rides and it seems like we may have to do some field work to track down this Ollie person." Roger dangled his key ring in front of Lee.

"Yeah, I'll do it."

"Dare I ask where to find it?"

"You already parked next to it."

"Right, another baby poop colored Grandpa mobile. Just remember what a good friend you have in me because you know I'd rather be caught dead than in that crate!"


	27. Chapter 27 - Why Did I Have to Open My B

**Chapter 27 - Why Did I Have to Open My Big Mouth?**

Lee's renewed search of the apartment didn't turn up a phone book. His search of Mel's car fared better. He headed back inside the apartment to call Saul &amp; Roger.

"I found a phone book in her glove compartment, but it looks kind of old and full of scratch outs. I don't see any Ollies or Olivers in it."

"Bring it back," Saul said. "We'll just have to try them one by one and see what shakes out. I'm also getting phone records for Roger's apartment and Melanie's old place."

Lee groaned audibly at the prospect of going through those records looking for a needle in a haystack.

"If you want to avoid the paperwork a while longer, you can follow up on possible lead to the van. It's a long shot, but it's the first partial match to come in."

"Sure, anything to avoid the drudgery."

"It's a house - more like a cabin - in Palomar Mountain. Owner of record is a corporation, so we're guessing it's a rental. We probably won't be able to track down tenant info until tomorrow. It's your call to go or wait."

"I'll go. Give me the address and let me talk to Roger a minute."

"I got loads of maps in my car, buddy. Enjoy the drive. It should be beautiful, although I'd get out of the hills before dark if I were you."

"Dangerous area?"

"To drive in the dark, yes. One of the curviest stretches around."

"If that's the case, I'm taking Mel's car."

"Fair enough."

"You got a weapon in your place?"

"Yes, several. Safe is in the bedroom closet. Take your pick."

"Combination?"

"Are you too rusty to crack it?"

"I thought you suggested I get home by dark?"

"12-16-"

"75," Lee finished. "O.N.I. graduation."

"You're not so rusty after all. Enjoy the drive."

Lee headed out to the garage. He'd chosen the Sig Sauer P226 from Roger's safe, the O.N.I. training model. Lee grabbed its holster too, along with a windbreaker from Roger's closet to conceal the gun. In the garage, Lee hopped into Mel's cute convertible which he'd backed into the spot the prior day. As he moved forward, a thumping noise from the rear passenger side led him to brake suddenly. He hopped out and walked around. A flat. "Damn." Lee pulled the car back into its space. He checked the spare and was dismayed to find it too low on air to use. With a look of deep disappointment, Lee headed for Roger's brown sedan.

At least Roger's car was neat as a pin inside, a trait not shared by Mel's car. Lee flipped the radio on, not surprised to find news as the preset. He switched the radio to beachy music. He needed to lighten up his darkening mood. The happy music channel lost range as he headed up Palomar Mountain. Lee regretted not having taken the Cobra or fixed Mel's flat. The terrain yelled for a stick shift and the glorious weather deserved a convertible, and a tape deck would have been nice too. Roger's stripped down sedan was simply a drag to drive on those wonderful curves. Little did Lee know.

Just five miles out from his destination, on the descent, Lee noticed that the brakes seemed very soft and low to the floor. Lee downshifted the transmission to D2 to slow the engine and remove some strain from the brakes. The problem continued and Lee downshifted to D1, hoping to reduce his speed to a crawl. Gravity took its toll, however, and Lee had to use the brakes some, except the brake pedal now went to the floor. The brakes were gone. Lee looked at the dramatic curve ahead. Lee pumped the brakes to no avail. Lee slowly pushed the emergency brake pedal down. The rear wheels ratcheted sideways. Lee pulled the handle to release it, which dragged the car the opposite way. The guardrail was perilously close on the passenger side, but the turn was too steep to pull parallel to it and use it to help stop the car. Lee steered the sedan to keep it on the roadway, chancing driving too fast in the middle of the little used road instead of going over a cliff.

A few seconds later, Lee tried the emergency brake again. He pushed the pedal forward as slowly as possible while compensating for the directional shift that he expected. He ended up swerving onto the wrong side of the road, a better result than going through the guardrail to the canyon bottom. Unfortunately, the next turn was a duplicate of the two prior ones, steep and extreme. The car continued to pick up speed. Lee doubted he could stop the car with the emergency brake on this grade. He also didn't know how long it would be until the grade lessened or whether he could continue to maintain control of the car with the emergency brake until it did.

Lee had only a second or two to decide. He released his seat belt, opened his door, and slowed the car as much as he could by slowly pushing in the emergency brake. As the car began to fishtail, he bailed out into the mountain side. His momentum took him into a gravel and dirt ditch next to the mountain, where he continued to tumble downhill for nearly twenty feet. Lee barely registered the explosion that followed.

Lee didn't move for a minute. He opted first to take stock of what might be hurt while the adrenaline was still pumping. The arms of the borrowed windbreaker were in near shreds. To Lee's amazement, however, his face and head seemed fine. He'd managed to protect them at the cost of his arms. Rivulets of blood ran down the shredded sleeves. Lee began to pull out small pieces of imbedded gravel from his forearms. He hoped he wouldn't need stitches.

Lee slowly pulled the jacket off. His upper body was sore and stiff, but everything worked. Lee continued pulling out pieces of gravel and dirt, avoiding what he knew he had to do next: seeing if he could stand up. His jeans had stayed mostly in tact, except for the knees. Lee pulled tiny bits of gravel out of that area. "Courage, man," Lee castigated himself bracing for the test. He leaned his back against the mountain side and pushed up. Lee took a shaky first step and then a second. The legs worked. The feet were fine. "Whew!" Lee reeled as he took a third step too quickly and became dizzy. He leaned his back up against the mountainside and caught his breath for a minute. He stayed there hoping someone might drive by. After ten minutes, Lee gave up and crossed to the far side of the road to descend. Down was the only direction that seemed possible just then.

Around the bend, Lee saw a gap in the guard rail. He tracked his eyes down the canyon where Roger's car had exploded in flames. He sat down on the rail for a minute regretting that he wouldn't be able to verify his suspicions about Roger's brakes. Mel wouldn't step foot inside Roger's car. Roger's brakes were bad, as Roger would find out when he returned from his honeymoon. Mel had a large insurance policy on Roger. Coincidence or attempted murder?

What a lousy attempt at murder, however. Roger would have handled the emergency much like Lee and could have survived just as well. Of course, Roger would have more likely been doing sixty on I-5 when it happened. Different techniques could be used, but danger to others would necessitate absorbing more danger to himself. The result could have been worse. Could have been better, too. Lee shook his head in confusion. It seemed such an amateurish way to try to kill someone. Not so real life. "Kind of movie like," Lee gasped aloud when he realized what he'd said.

Lee removed the gun from the holster and tossed the holster after the car. Who'd pick up an obviously toting hitchhiker? He wrapped the gun in the shredded jacket and waited. Fifteen minutes later, a pick up truck going in the direction Lee had been headed stopped.

"Happy to give you a ride, although medical care's the other way."

"I've got a friend a few miles from here if you could help me get closer."

"Sure, no problem. Just point the way."

"That's awfully kind of you, thanks."

"Yeah, well, we Navy boys always help each other, don't we?"

Lee's Annapolis ring had given it away. "We do."

"Course, I ain't no officer."

"Right now you are a godsend. Beats an officer any day of the week."

Charlie - also known as "Wobbles on account of my lousy sea legs" - Watson dropped Lee off half a mile from the property. "Sure I can't take you closer? Or do something else for you?"

"Matter of fact, when you get where you are going, call this man and let him know you rescued me and where. Tell him I'd appreciate a ride out in case my friend can't get me home tonight."

"Good as done. I'll call from the next pay phone."

Lee marveled at his good fortune in the midst of bad before he skulked towards the cabin in the woods. What had once been a cabin in the woods, Lee thought as he smelled the overwhelming scent of smoke. Gun in hand, Lee carefully poked around the charred remains of the cabin. The small structure had been swallowed quickly by flames. Lee poked around looking for any sign of life, knowing no one inside could survive it. He didn't find anyone.

Lee rested a few moments. He had no basis to connect this fire to Mel's death. It could be coincidence. With full breath back, Lee decided to poke around the surrounding woods a bit. When he found the burned out remains of the Ford van wedged between trees some fifty yards in the woods behind the house, he could no longer discount a connection. Close up to the vehicle, he could see that the gas tank had exploded. Wrapping his hand in the shredded jacket on the off chance fingerprints were obtainable, Lee opened the side door of the van. The seats were empty, but when he looked toward the back of the van, he saw it. The body. Whether the victim had been blonde and blue, Lee couldn't be certain. However, the charred remnants of a tripod and video recorder suggested he'd just found Ollie, or someone he was supposed to believe was Ollie.

Disgusted and defeated, Lee moved out to the road to await his ride. He started a small fire for visibility. Just after dark, Saul Jackson pulled up to him. Saul's gun was drawn, as was Lee's. They chuckled at each other. "Can't be too careful in these hills," Saul said.

"The guy who lived here sure wasn't. He's dead and there's not much left behind to tell a story."

"I'll get a forensics team out here first thing tomorrow, unless you think time is of the essence."

"I think someone already did their best to destroy evidence and is done. I'm surprised Roger didn't want to come along for the escape."

"I'd like to tell you that it was because he was devastated to hear about his car, but I don't think you'd buy it. There was an incident with Commander MacAdam. He stayed behind with her."

"Define incident."


	28. Chapter 28 - Mind Games

**Chapter 28 - Mind Games**

"Rachael pushed the mattress up against the window, wrapped herself in a blanket and crashed through the window."

"Is she hurt?"

"Less than you. She needed a couple of stitches for a cut in her arm."

"What did she do when she got out?"

"She pushed down the master-at-arms, flew by him to the stairwell, went down three flights and sat down just in front of the exit door."

"What do you mean she sat down?"

"Bizarre, I know. She was completely ambulatory. If she had wanted to get out, she'd have been clear. She came back in with the master-at-arms, no fuss."

Lee shook his head. "I don't get it."

"None of us do."

"What do we do now?"

"We find out who the dead body is and go from there."

"If it is this Ollie guy, what good will that do us? We needed to talk to him."

"Even dead men talk."

"Not clearly enough to exonerate a living woman who's confessed."

"She can retract it. Plead insanity. That's a guaranteed out."

"She'll be no better off, Saul."

"When we get back, you get your cuts taken care of and get a good night's sleep. We're not out of ideas yet."

"What's left?"

"Maybe Ollie did it, maybe not. Maybe someone killed Ollie to shut him up or maybe to cut him out of a deal."

"He supposedly dealt drugs. If it is him, his death might be completely unrelated."

"Let's see what facts we can find before we worry about those we can't. We also need to look at Roger's car. Maybe there will be some evidence left."

"After that fall?"

"Yes, Lee. Same with that van. You'd be amazed at modern forensics."

"I hope so."

"If Roger's car was tampered with, we have to figure out why. I see only two possibilities: because he knows too much and someone wants him out of the way or the insurance."

"Mel's dead. She can't collect."

"True, which brings up the question of who would benefit from that policy in that situation?"

"Murder is about money or passion, that's what you said."

"Lee, I think it's time to ask Roger some difficult questions. Are you able to do that?"

"You think Roger is a suspect?"

"I didn't say that. I think we need to explore Roger's relationships to determine whether someone he knows is a suspect."

"Besides Rachael? He told me there wasn't anyone. I believe him."

"Then press him some more. If you don't, someone else will have to. I don't think I need to explain the likely consequences of that happening to you."

Lee felt sick to his stomach. He leaned up against the car window until they returned to base.

At the Medical Center, Lee received twelve stitches, mostly in bits and pieces on his arms and knees. Afterward, he went to check on Rachael. She'd been moved to a different room, but remained guarded by a master-at-arms. This room contained only a small window in the door. Rachael seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Lee decided not to disturb her, but warned the guard. "Hope she was searched well before you put her in here."

"The nurses did that."

"I'd remain on high alert if I were you. That lock is a piece of cake."

The master-at-arms shrugged off Lee's cautions. Lee went to check with the nurse.

"She'll be fine. Dr. Paulino checked in on her a while ago."

"What kind of doctor is this Paulino guy?"

"A psychiatrist, I think. He's not normally on rotation here."

Lee saw an opportunity and decided to take it. He swooned a little and begged the nurse to get him some water. She couldn't resist him. Unfortunately, she didn't go far from the desk for the drink. Lee plopped into her chair. "Do you mind? I'm a little wobbly on my feet."

"I could get you a wheel chair, if you like."

"No, I just need a few minutes. If you want, I'll stay and keep an eye on the camera. You could take a break."

"I probably shouldn't, but I could use a ciggy. Helluva day."

"I know what you mean."

After the nurse left, Lee removed Rachael's file from the inbox. Three visits from this Dr. Paulino in less than 48 hours. Each visit lasted about an hour. The doctor wasn't one to make elaborate notes. After the first visit, "Level 1 conditioning; Confinement Protocol test 1 (Limited Preparation) initiated." After the second visit: "Test 1: failed. Subject interpreted directive in self-destructive manner. Level 2 and 3 conditioning applied. Confinement Protocol test 2 (Limited Action) initiated." After the last visit, "Test 2: Excellent results. Limits followed exactly. Level 4 conditioning applied. Confinement Protocol test 3 (Safety Zone) initiated."

Lee observed the pattern immediately. The first night, Rachael had begun the unfinished noose. The next day, Dr. Paulino deemed suicide preparation a failure for "limited" escape preparation. He further conditioned her. Then came an actual breakout by Rachael, the one where she inexplicably stopped before the exit. Dr. Paulino deemed that a successful "limited action". Dr. Paulino was programming Rachael. To what end, however? What the hell was Johnson's game? And what was to come next? What could "Safety Zone" mean?

Lee slapped the folder back in place. He ruminated as he waited for the nurse to return. Then he called for a ride back to bachelor's quarters, conceding he was too stiff, sore and exhausted to walk. The nurse handed him a bottle of ibuprofin on his way out. Lee thanked her and popped three on the way to the elevator.


	29. Chapter 29 - No Rest for the Weary

**Chapter 29 - No Rest for the Weary **

Lee's head spun. He'd hit the wall, literally and figuratively. Unconsciousness would be a relief from the events of the past two days. Instead he had messages waiting: the admiral, Chip, Roger. Three people for whom Lee would lay down his life. He already had. Couldn't they all wait until morning? No, Roger would be guilt wracked about Lee nearly dying in his car. Lee called him.

"Are you really okay? What the hell happened out there?"

"I'm scraped up, sore, stiff and tired, but I'll live. Maybe. If I can get a few hours of sleep."

"Sorry. This is all my fault."

"Probably."

"Hey, not intentionally."

"The way to hell is paved with good intentions."

"Yeah, I've got a better view of that now."

"Rog, I'm going to crash soon. Keep . . . keep an eye on Rachael."

Lee fell into the bed. A weary Roger tried to figure out what his friend had meant. He decided it couldn't be literal, since Rachael was under lock, key and guard. Then again, she had escaped earlier in the day. No. Security was tighter now. He'd follow up with Lee in the morning.

Lee fell into bed, too exhausted to tend to the hunger and thirst that also plagued him. Dead to the world, a recurring dream kept piercing his slumber. That damn ringing again. Lee reached out toward the bedside table. The phone fell to the floor. Its incessant ringing stopped. "Later!" Lee moaned.

Lee slept the sleep of the dead after that. He awoke with a startle at 3:30 a.m.. He heard nothing, but felt as though someone was in the room. Lee reached for Roger's gun on the bedside table. A hand pressed down hard on his. "Leave it be, Curly."

"Red?"

"Yes."

"What are you doing here?"

"I . . . I don't know." Rachael sank into a sit on the bed next to Lee.

Lee rose up and switched on the light. "You don't know why you came to see me or why you are here at all?"

"Both."

"How'd you get out?"

"Picked the lock with some metal fragments."

"From what?"

"I can't remember."

"Red, you do know you got out earlier today?"

"I knew the room was different."

"How'd you get past the master-at-arms?"

"Knocked him out. Kind of had that déjà vu feeling."

"It happened once earlier today."

"Shit."

"What's this Dr. Paulino doing to you?"

Rachael shrugged.

"Tell me."

"Whatever Johnson tells him to do?"

"Did he tell you to come to me?"

"I can't remember."

"Come here," Lee said. He wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly spooned against him.

Rachael shook for a few minutes before she fell asleep in Lee's arms. At five a.m., Rachael rolled over. Lee felt an arm on him and startled. Rachael kissed his cheek. Lee debated whether to react. Rachael was such a puzzle. She kissed him again, this time on the mouth.

"Morning," Lee said. "Sweet as this is, I'm not sure this is such a good idea."

Rachael pouted.

"Last night you couldn't remember why you came here."

"Because it was safe."

"That's me, safe. Okay. Safe from what?"

Rachael shrugged then leaned in to kiss him again.

Lee kissed her back. He let her lead the way forward after that, concerned about her unpredictability and not wanting to be any kind of aggressor given her recent past. Minutes later, Rachael rolled off to Lee's side. "Nice way to blow ballast, sailor." She leaned in to kiss Lee.

"I told you I was unsinkable." Lee kissed her back. They nuzzled and fell back to sleep. At 5:50, Lee felt Rachael stir. He watched with one eye squinting as she got up and got dressed. "Where you heading, Red?"

"Back."

"Back where."

"To where I was."

"Why?"

"I'm supposed to. Gotta hurry." Rachael ran out the door.

Lee shook his head. A few minutes later after Lee had called him, Roger came in through the door Rachael left ajar. "You okay, Lee?"

"Fine."

"Right, fine. How many stitches?"

"Just a handful. Less than a couple of handfuls."

"Restless night?" Roger noticed the disheveled bed. He sat down on the edge. He picked up a stray hair.

"You hiding company somewhere?"

"No."

"Either you had some or housekeeping should be fired."

"Rachael showed up in the middle of the night. She just left."

"Then what are you doing in bed? We've got to find her. If she gets off base, she'll be in deep shit."

"She isn't going off base."

"You know this how?"

"She told me."

"You believed her?"

"Yes."

"Why would you believe her?"

"This Dr. Paulino character is experimenting with her, putting her through some sort of conditioning trials."

"How do you know this?"

"I pulled her file at the Medical Center last night. I had a hunch and then when she turned up here, acted the way she did, and no alarms or calls about her escaping came, I was certain about it. That, plus when she left I spotted a tail on her."

"Why did she come to you and not me?"

"You tell me, Roger. She was supposed to go some place safe. Are you no longer safe for Rachael?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"


	30. Chapter 30 - Grilling a Friend

** Chapter 30 - Grilling a Friend**

"Is there a reason that Rachael might no longer feel safe around you?"

"No."

"Have you been dating anyone?"

"No, no one seriously anyway. If I had, I wouldn't have been marrying Melanie. Do you suddenly doubt me?"

"I nearly got killed driving your car last night, only to run into another dead body."

"You were going to take Mel's car. That's not my fault."

"Hers had a convenient flat."

"I haven't even been home since the wedding! What are you getting at? Why would I rig my own brakes?"

Lee shrugged. "Saul keeps reminding me that murder is usually of two kinds: for money or for passion. You didn't stand to benefit financially from Mel's death, did you?"

"You have got to be kidding me? No."

"You didn't take out a reciprocal policy on Mel?"

"No, I told you before. I didn't. Lee, this is nuts. I didn't want Mel dead. I can't believe you would think that."

"Then maybe someone wanted her dead for you?"

"There is no one. I wish to hell there was, Lee, but there isn't."

"There's Rachael."

"We know that she didn't have the gun, Lee."

"No, we don't. She could have searched the apartment. She could have found it. Mel could have given it to Rachael with a suggestion to use it on herself. Even you could have even given it to her. The irony then would be that Mel set up a potential alibi for the gun being out of Rachael's possession."

"Lee, Rachael and I did not conspire to kill Mel. Rachael did not kill Mel. You have to know that."

"Maybe you have a stalker of some sort."

"I'm a trained professional, Lee. I'd know."

"What if you didn't?"

"Rachael would have known. Are you daft?"

"Daft. Sore. Tired. Confused beyond all get out."

"Me too," Roger plopped on the bed.

"Maybe Rachael did kill Mel. Maybe Johnson's lackey told her to."

"Why would he do that?"

"Maybe as a test? Kill a pregnant woman. Survive better than the last time. Be at our beck and call to kill again."

"I can't believe Johnson would stoop to that. Rachael's good at what she does, but she's hardly the only agent who can point a gun and shoot accurately. It makes no sense."

"If she fails, her mental state makes her disposable. Unaccountable. Rogue even."

"No. I don't believe he'd go that far, Lee. The absurdity of using a prominent Navy contractor's pregnant daughter as a test assassination subject is too far out there even for Johnson."

"I can't put it past him."

"Lee, you're part time. I work for the man 24/7. I know that he cares about his agents. He cares about Rachael."

"I've been waiting to hear those details."

"I don't have details. I just know that Rachael and Johnson have a connection of some sort. I couldn't put a name to its nature or how far it has gone, but I think you nailed it when you suggested my unpaid leave was for her benefit not my punishment."

"Well, as it turns out, not so much," Lee smiled.

"Laugh it up, buddy. If you and Rachael did what I suspect here, Johnson will probably be gunning for you next," Roger flung a pillow into Lee. "Ooh, unless it was his idea?"

"Of safe?" Lee rubbed his forehead. "I may need to see a psychiatrist now!"

"You should be flattered. Johnson or his agent deemed you were safe. Now, did he mean that in a no emotional entanglement way or was he judging your probable technique?"

Lee whacked Roger back with a pillow. They both cracked into laughter.

"I feel so used!"

"Well used, at least," Roger snickered. "Rachael, she was really okay?"

"Do we need to have this conversation?"

"Uh, no. I trust you, and I'm hoping that despite your earlier efforts to break me into confession, you still trust me."

"With my life. Sorry. Saul pushed me to push you."

"Well, I suppose I should appreciate that gesture from him. You too."

"Indeed. Listen, I still have an itch about Mel's cousin, Randall. Is there some way you can find out for certain which of the brothers is, you know?"

"Gay as three dollar bill, you mean?"

Lee nodded.

"A phone call or two should do it. You think it might be relevant?"

Lee shrugged. "Who knows? Sometimes it's just better to scratch the itch than ignore it." Lee's phone rang. "We'll be there in a couple. Yes, we. Remember the car I was last using went off a cliff. Roger just swung by to give me a ride."

"Awkward moment?" Roger laughed as Lee hung up.


	31. Chapter 31 - The Devil is in the Details

**Chapter 31 - The Devil is in the Details**

Coffee, danish and mounds of paper awaited Lee and Roger.

"Good morning, gentlemen. We have lots of fun investigative work today. Pouring over phone records for a start."

"Oh, goody," Lee rubbed his forehead again.

"You prefer field work like last night?"

"Absent the failed brakes, yes."

"Tampered with, most likely. Forensics looked at Roger's spot in the garage. There were a few spots of brake fluid on the ground. Probably a pinhole was made."

"Why tampered with as opposed to damaged?"

"Roger, are you in the habit of working underneath your car in the garage?"

"No."

"Is that spot always yours?"

"Yes, it's an assigned spot."

"Forensics found some fabric fibers on the ground in contact with the drops. They thought it an odd coincidence."

"Yeah, but what a completely dumb way to try to kill someone. I'd have been able to stop the car by using the gears and the parking brake. I might have gotten hurt, but killed, heck, Lee drove it under the worst possible scenario. I've seen him worse after a bar fight."

"Liar."

"San Juan, Spring of 1987."

"I only had eleven stitches that time."

"You had a freaking six inch knife wound, Lee!"

"Okay, children, point taken. Nevertheless, someone seems to have done it."

"Maybe Ollie? Someone slightly involved with movies who doesn't know that much about cars for real?" Lee offered.

"Possibly. While we don't have confirmation on the body at the cabin yet, nor word from the owner of the property as to the tenant's name, we have located telephone records for that address. The phone company lists the number to one Herbert Oliver."

"No wonder he went by Ollie!" Lee exclaimed.

"Roger, look at those first. See if you find any calls to your apartment or Miss Mattingly's old number or anything else of interest."

"Wow. Guy used the phone a lot."

"It's six months worth. Start at the end and work backwards is my advice."

"And me?"

"Look through Melanie's phone records for this guy's number or anything else interesting."

"Good thing the coffee pot is full."

"When we get a little more info on Herbert Oliver, we'll start calling film studios for better leads."

Lee and Roger drank coffee, ate doughnuts and circled items of interest for thirty minutes. Lee yawned throughout the process.

"Trouble sleeping last night, Lee? Driving over cliffs in your dreams?"

Lee looked up at Saul with surprise. "No. You really don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Rachael busted out late last night. Paid me a late night visit."

"She what? Why the hell wasn't I notified?" Saul kicked a chair across the room. "I'm responsible for keeping her in custody! Wait a second, where is she now? Jesus!"

"Calm down. I'm pretty certain she's back in custody."

"Pretty certain?" Saul had picked up the phone as Lee spoke. "Where the hell is Commander MacAdam? . . . . . . How the hell did she get out and why wasn't I called?" After a few seconds, Saul slammed down the phone. He glared at Lee and Roger. "What's this all about?"

Roger and Lee stared at each other, both wondering whether to say anything. Neither did.

"I'll throw both of you off this investigation if you don't tell me."

"Some psychiatrist is conditioning her, I suspect at Admiral Johnson's direction."

"You know this how, Lee?"

"Snooped at her medical file the other night. It wasn't very detailed. The doctor must be keeping a bigger file on her somewhere."

"What about medications she's being given?"

"I didn't notice. Even if I had, I doubt I would have understood."

"I know she's been on antidepressants since we got her back."

Saul sighed. "Just great! Psychiatric drugs and conditioning. Maybe she did do it. Maybe it was suggested to her."

"I can't fathom that," Roger said.

Lee looked pensive.

"Your thoughts, Lee?"

"It could have been an unintended result."

"Explain."

"Well, last night she was directed or suggested to go someplace she felt safe. Imagine something vague and open to interpretation, like do something to protect a loved one or deal with a nagging problem."

"Dammit."

"Yes, Roger, damn it! This could sink her if we don't find another perp, and heaven help us if she breaks out of the base. . . . I'll be back in a bit. Get through those records. Find something useful."

Lee and Roger spent the morning highlighting records. About an hour into the tedious process, Lee went backwards and highlighted a couple more. "Recognize these numbers, Rog?"

"No. I know it's a Santa Barbara area code, but it's not Mel's parents' number."

"One way to find out," Lee said as he picked up the phone and dialed. "Sorry, I misdialed," Lee said and hung up.

"What? You have that look."

"Why is Herbert Oliver calling Mattingly Industries? Seven times last week."

"That's interesting."

"Yes, but it's just a trunk number. There's no telling who he talked to."

"Maybe Saul can get Mattingly's records. Maybe there were calls back and forth."

"We can ask. Just for the last couple of weeks at least. Might be interesting to see what happens if we ask Mel's father for them on a voluntary basis."

"Unlikely."

"Richard doted on Mel, Lee. He might have been cash strapped, but he wouldn't have hurt his baby."

"Maybe he had two million reasons. He could have been desperate."

"The policy was on me, not Mel."

"You forget your brakes were tampered with."

"He wouldn't have had her shot! He couldn't."

"I can't see it either. A drug overdose, something gentle, maybe."

"Maybe this Ollie guy was trying to blackmail Richard or something?"

"I guess we'll let Saul make the decision how to follow up on this."

Saul returned at 11:45, at which time Lee was dozing and Roger was finishing off his fourth doughnut.

"Detective work is just so glamorous, isn't it boys?"

Lee snapped awake.

"Progress?"

Lee and Roger filled him in.

"What about on your end?"

"Herbert Oliver has several aliases, but did use his social security number to obtain phone service. He rented the cottage under the name Ollie Smith."

"How clever," Lee yawned.

"He told his landlord he did contract film work for several studios. Lee, here's a list of studios he mentioned and some others nearby. Call the personnel departments and see if any of it was real. Use the social security number as well as Oliver, Ollie, Herbert, Smith, whatever. Roger, you and I are going to call Richard Mattingly on a recorded line. Come with me."

"You get all the fun!"

"Didn't you have enough last night?" Roger retorted.

Lee shrugged and yawned.


	32. Chapter 32 - Synthesis and Sneakiness

** Chapter 32 - Synthesis and Sneakiness**

"Richard Mattingly disavows knowing Ollie at all. He's having someone copy phone records for every extension, including his, and will courier them to us. He's even volunteered to have his secretary go through to look for Ollie's number and advise us if she spots anything before we get the records here."

"I assume they are sending a complete list of the company's extensions with it?"

"I'm not an amateur, Lee."

"Sorry, I'm punchy."

"Any luck with the studios?"

"I'm waiting for call backs. What did Mr. Mattingly know about the insurance policy?"

"Not a thing, he claimed. However, he did know the agent who wrote it. It's the agency that Mattingly uses personally and for the company's executive life policies."

"Would Mel have known this person?"

"Mattingly didn't think so. I've left the agent a message, so hopefully we'll know more soon."

Lee reached to grab a ringing phone, hopeful it was one of the studios. "For you. Sounds Scottish."

"Ducky! I'll take this outside."

Lee and Roger exchanged puzzled glances. They stared at each other and around the room waiting for phone calls that didn't come for nearly twenty minutes until Saul returned.

"Good news?"

"No, not yet, but by the end of the day we may know more than we want to."

"What the devil does that mean?" Lee asked.

"About what?" Roger simultaneously inquired.

A ringing phone prevented Saul from answering. Lee took the call.

"Super. . . . . Interesting. . . . . Can you fax me the records? . . . His application and whatever information might help me find people who worked with him. . . . Probabilities will suffice if you can't give details. Thanks. You're an angel."

"Sweet talked one?" Roger asked.

"Ollie Smith did some work at Universal in the last few years, on a piece work basis. He got booted off his last job there for dealing drugs."

"Like that's considered a problem at the studios?" Roger quipped.

"In plain sight, it can be. Ollie apparently was not sufficiently subtle and he met with a small piece of misfortune: being on the set with a star who is a recovered addict. They threw Ollie off the set and barred him from the studio permanently."

"So who's the lucky one who gets to interview the star?" Roger asked.

"No one. He's back in rehab in Europe."

"Lee, if you are feeling up to it, why don't you drive to L.A. now and call me when you get there. I'll let you know who might be worth talking to from what comes in and see if there are other interviews in the area you might do."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm being shuffled off to Buffalo?"

"I've got too much to do to leave and since Roger may be a target still, I'd rather it be you."

"Hey pal, if I were you I'd check your brakes before you get too far! Maybe look under the hood too," Roger jibed.

"You two are up to something," Lee accused as he headed out the door.

Eight hours and many phone calls back and forth later, Lee returned from visiting three studios where Ollie had worked. He caught up with Saul and Roger in the Officer's mess. "Ollie was something short of a prince. He dealt cocaine and marijuana. He claimed to be an expert at all kinds of endeavors but failed to distinguish himself at any, including stunt work. He was a dreamer with no great talents."

"That's all?"

"He worked stunt support crew on at least two movies which involved the premise of cutting brake lines on a car to kill someone. Apparently he was also very comfortable around firearms. He bragged that he was an expert shot, and he kept trying to correct actors' positioning and aiming. The efforts weren't appreciated by the directors, however. It hardly matters with fake guns or blanks as ammo."

"Ollie wasn't lying about being a marksman," Saul added. "He did a stint in the Navy as an enlisted man. About the only thing he did do well was shoot. He was discharged 'under other than honorable conditions.' Drugs apparently. He lied about his service record on his application to several studios. That said, we still have nothing concrete to tie him to Melanie's murder."

"Not directly, no, but we do have reason to believe that he was at the wedding now. He failed to report to work for the last two days and a camera man on the set was upset because Ollie had borrowed an expensive videocamera from he that he didn't return."

"Okay, that's something to go on. We need to find a picture of Ollie to show to the photographer and wedding guests to see if we can get a positive identification at the scene, one better than drug-addled Mimi's recollection."

"Great, so we have a dead man who could have done it, probably did do it, but we have nothing to prove it," Lee complained.

"I'll admit that right now the case against him is as circumstantial as the one against Commander MacAdam. The important thing is that facts are beginning to break open."

"The phone calls?"

"To a point. There were return calls from Mattingly Industries to Mr. Oliver, but they were only from conference rooms, no one's personal extension."

"Damn."

"Yes, but Mr. Mattingly also called his wife and had her courier their last few months' itemized phone bills as well. He wanted to show us that he didn't know Oliver and save us the trouble of a subpoena."

"Except it turns out that there were calls to Oliver's number from the home phone," Roger smiled.

"Maybe when Mel was visiting?"

"No, the dates don't match up to her calendar."

"Then who? I mean, why would the Mattinglys volunteer those records under the circumstances?"

"Inevitability?" Saul suggested. "The calls weren't just a few seconds, but several minutes long."

"Her cousin Randall! He told me he's been staying with the Mattinglys to save money."

"Correct. We were saving this for when you got back, Lee. The agent who wrote the policy on my life was referred to Mel by Randall. There were two phone calls from Randall's extension at work to Mel this month. Interesting, yes?"

"Yes, and curious too. Randall presented himself to me as very distant from Melanie. How'd he put it? . . . He said he avoided her, that she wasn't about to listen to her 'annoying younger cousin.'"

"You know, there was an entry in Mel's calendar from a few weeks back. Lunch with R. It's possible it was Randall," Roger said.

"Maybe we have a conspiracy between Randall Mattingly and this Ollie character?" Saul said. "What could their common interest be?"

"I don't see one other than they both might have had gripes with Mel. Ollie might have been upset that Melanie was going to pass off his baby as Roger's. Randall resented Mel leaching her father dry while Randall worked hard for the money and the company was struggling," Lee said.

"Yeah, but didn't Mimi say that Ollie and Mel were on good terms as recently as a few weeks ago? Mel might even have hired Ollie to video the wedding," Roger said.

"Maybe, maybe not. Maybe she didn't even know he was there. He was on the periphery behind giant potted plants," Lee said. "Look, I was probably twenty feet or less from the tripod but I never consciously noticed it. I certainly never saw it being used. I'd hazard a guess that Ollie didn't even move into position until after the ceremony started, when no one would be looking in that direction."

"We're circling around the question, gentlemen. What would her cousin Randall possibly get out of a deal with Ollie to kill Melanie?" Saul asked.

"Randall's setting himself up to succeed Richard Mattingly in the business, assuming the business survives the current crisis," Lee said.

"If I may observe something, gentlemen, we have finally circled around to a potential intersection of motives. Passion for Oliver. Money for Randall Mattingly," Saul stated.

"What money?"

"Okay, this involves some supposition on my part. Ollie is the shooter. He's rigged Roger's car, expecting that will result in his death soon. He kills Mel as part of a deal with Randall to split the insurance proceeds on Roger in the near future."

"That doesn't make any sense. The contingent beneficiary on Mel's policy was her dad," Roger said.

"True, but he's going to plow it right into the business. That gets the business through the current crisis. Maybe Richard was next in line to die?"

"Sounds a little far-fetched," Roger said.

"Maybe there's also a policy on Mel that we don't know of yet," Saul said. "What we do know for certain is that there was contact between Oliver and Randall. Why? It's cause for continued digging. Reasonable doubt is all we need to get Rachael off the hook."

"No!" Lee pounded the desk. "Rachael won't let it go to trial."

"How can you be so certain?"

"Lee's right about that."

"We'll keep her under suicide watch."

"That'd require a straitjacket. Besides, you can't do that to her, confine her like that, not after what she's been through!" Roger argued.

"I'd have to agree with the gentlemen, Saul," a man entering through the door said.

"Lee Crane, Roger Cresson, is Dr. Donald Mallard. He's a medical examiner with N.C.I.S.. He happened to be in L.A. for a conference and was kind enough to ditch it to do a friend a favor."

"No offense, but I don't see how an M.E. can help," Lee said.

"No, of course not. I've only recently become an M.E.. I was a practicing physician on the front lines until recently. Afghanistan. Fascinating geopolitical history that area . . ."

"Sorry to interrupt Ducky, but time is of the essence."

"Ducky? Oh, Mallard, right," Roger connected.

"Dr. Mallard, you said you agreed with us about confining Rachael?" Lee asked.

"Well, let's be clear, a straitjacket or anything similar would be a mistake. Supervision, however, remains essential."

"What did you learn?" Saul asked.

"This so-called doctor has been conditioning her using a dangerous combination of psychotropic drugs. Unfortunately, withdrawal from these must be carefully graduated."

"I meant more along the lines of whether Commander MacAdam killed Melanie Mattingly, knowingly or otherwise," Saul said.

"Knowingly, I don't think so. That said, her clarity of mind has been - I shall avoid medical jargon for your benefit - interfered with. Her memories of recent activity are untrustworthy. You could not put her on the witness stand."

"So an insanity plea is an option?" Saul asked.

"Not a good one, I think. I believe that even after she is removed from all but the antidepressant medication, you will still find her driven to suicide if she is kept closely confined."

"What about getting her away from this doctor?" Lee asked.

"It is a fait accompli. Dr. Paulino will not see Commander MacAdam again in the near future."

"How can you be certain?"

"She has been removed from the infirmary."

"Where is she?"

"She is currently with a friend of yours, Lieutenant McDowell."

"He's got his hands full," Lee smiled.

"Commander MacAdam is resting comfortably now and shall remain so for a few more hours."

"What happens after that?"

"I have secured Dr. Paulino's detailed notes. I have cursorily studied them and shall peruse them further this evening so I can recommend a course of treatment. In the meantime, I would prescribe that she be kept close to those she trusts and those who trust her."

"Where is she?"

"She is in officer's quarters, yours Commander Crane."

"Why?"

"Nothing else was available?" Saul shrugged insincerely.

"Roger and I could bunk up."

"No, I would leave the rooming arrangements as is," Dr. Mallard said. "She indicated she feels safe with you, Commander Crane. That's important for her now."

"Why not me?"

"She feels she poses a danger to you, Commander Cresson. That makes her not feel safe with you."

"Oh, I guess that makes sense, sort of."

"Now that we've cleared up that adolescent pissing contest, you two can call it a night. Ducky and I need to catch up."

"One moment, please. Commander MacAdam had a session with Dr. Paulino before we secured her. She was instructed to satisfy a craving. I suggest you gentlemen indulge her as best you can so that she remains willingly in your custody."

"What happens if we don't?"

"I have no magic tricks to break the conditioning and as I said earlier, she must be removed from the drugs at a measured pace or she may face both physical and psychic harm."

"You've left instructions on medicating her in the interim?" Lee asked.

"Not yet. That is why you will need to be vigilant for mood changes, whilst I sacrifice several hours of slumber ascertaining the appropriate methodology of withdrawal."

"Thank you, Dr. Mallard."

"My pleasure. I was spared having to listen to yet another of Doctor Assam's tedious lectures on blebbing, an interesting subject but certainly not for the sixty minutes that he will inevitably take speaking down to the room as if only he can comprehend his topic. For that, I should thank all of you. I also should inform you that I spoke to the county coroner a few minutes ago. Your Mr. Oliver suffered blunt trauma before the fire that consumed his flesh."

"We've had a team out there today looking for clues. Maybe we'll have something helpful tomorrow," Saul said.

"Hard to imagine what anyone could find in that mess."

"Oh, you'd be surprised, Lee. Roger's car may yield some as yet too."


	33. Chapter 33 - One Crazy Redhead

** Chapter 33 - One Crazy Redhead**

Lee and Roger both headed to Lee's quarters. A master-at-arms trailed behind Roger and another one sat in the living area of Lee's quarters.

"She's been quiet since we brought her here. Lieutenant McDowell is in the bedroom watching over her."

"May I inquire what your instructions are?"

"To make certain she does not leave the base. A policeman has been positioned at the entry who is checking all vehicles leaving the base."

"They know she's broken loose then," Roger said.

"Someone must have tipped them."

"Are you worried about that, Lee?"

"No, I'm more worried about how Admiral Johnson is reacting to her being broken out of his custody."

Roger and Lee both peeked into the bedroom. Brian McDowell acknowledged them and exited silently. Roger and Lee each took a side of the bed and flanked Rachael as she stirred awake.

"Hey beautiful. How are you?" Roger asked.

"More like where am I and how did I get here?"

"No memory?" Lee asked.

"I was talking to this kind of cute older Scottish sounding guy, a doctor I think, then nothing. Jesus, if I am having blackouts maybe I actually killed her."

"I don't think so, Red, though we definitely do have a problem or two with what Johnson's doctor has been up to with you."

Rachael shrugged. "I'm starving. Is there any food here?"

"No, but I can run down to the Commissary and beg. It's late."

"Pizza. I want white pizza with anchovies from Nardo's."

"No, Rachael. They'll be closing soon."

"Roger, why don't you give them a call. I think we can try to accommodate that simple a request. You can take your friend outside for a ride to pick it up."

"Clothes, real clothes, too. Shoes. Can't I have some shoes? Where's my stuff anyway?"

"Not a clue, Rach. I'm guessing they cleared out your room at the base hospital and put the stuff in storage somewhere. I'll see what I can scrounge up. Keep your expectations low at this time of night."

"Thanks, Rog. Are you okay?"

"Me? Very funny."

"What's so funny?"

"My best friend is accused of murder. How okay could I be?"

"Roger, what if I did it but I can't remember?"

"You didn't. If you really want that pizza, we can talk about this more later."

"God, yes. Pizza. Don't forget hot peppers!"

Roger left. Rachael sat up on the edge of the bed. She leaned her head on Lee's shoulder. "You'll take care of him, Curly?"

"Listen Red, things are breaking open some. There's another suspect."

"Who?"

"The ex-boyfriend. The only problem is that someone killed him."

"Shit."

"Hey, at least we know it couldn't have been you. You were under lock up. Be positive. We have a trail."

"Don't you have something I could change into? I could really use a shower. No, a bath. I could kill for a bath."

"Watch the threats, Red! Take a bath. I can lend you a shirt at the least. Those scrubs are awful with your complexion."

"They are so inconsiderate in the psych ward. No sense of fashion or style. Elastic waistbands are just so déclassé."

"Hey, don't you even think of asking me for a belt!"

Rachael looked around the ceiling and shrugged. "Not too much I could do with it here."

"You better not try anything on my watch, Red, I'm warning you."

"Then maybe you shouldn't let me out of your eyesight." Rachael stripped off her scrub top as she entered the bathroom. She leaned over to start the tub.

Lee fought the urge to follow her in. Rachael turned back toward him and removed her bra. Lee sighed and turned away. "Leave the door open so I can check on you."

Twenty minutes later, Rachael emerged in a towel. Lee handed her a T-shirt and turned away.

"Guess I must just have imagined the other night."

"What about it?"

"We'll leave it in my imagination. Only odd thing was there were all these fresh cuts and bruises on you, and a bunch of tiny stitches."

"Maybe someone told you about my accident the other night?"

"What accident?"

"I was tracking a lead in the mountains using Roger's car. The brakes went out and I had to bail."

"Maybe someone did tell me then."

"Come on Red, do you doubt your own mind that much?"

She shrugged. "There have been a lot of drugs. I hate them."

"I can understand that, but I think you are giving up too easily. Maybe you remember something else?" Lee leaned in to kiss Rachael, then pulled back. "Does that ring a bell?"

Rachael looked back questioningly. She kissed Lee back. She began to kiss down along the front of his shirt. When she got to his abdomen, she pulled up the shirt. "You son of a bitch. Isn't my brain mucked up enough without you adding to it?"

"I'm sorry. To what are you referring?"

"That scar. How could I have imagined that?"

"See, you can trust yourself to remember."

Lee was caught unawares when Rachael plunged both her hands into his chest, knocking him back on to the bed. He stayed back, uncertain what to expect next, and letting Rachael make the next move. She glared at him for a second. Lee couldn't refrain from smiling at her. She was on top of him moments later. "Don't you think I'm screwed up enough that you don't need to add to it?" she asked between kisses.

"Nope. I think you can take anything I or anyone can dish out, Commander, so long as you believe in yourself like I do."

By the time the pizza arrived, Lee and Rachael had redressed. Roger looked accusingly at both his friends. He put two pies in the oven and then handed Rachael a plastic sack. "Best you can do in the middle of the night. Drugstore chic."

Rachael kissed Roger's cheek. "Thanks." She darted off to change. She emerged in cut off shorts, a beachy Hawaiian looking shirt with Lee's black T-shirt underneath. Flip-flops and oversized sunglasses completed the ridiculous look.

Both men laughed.

"It beats scrubs!"

They all dug lustily into the pizza, polishing it and half a second pie off quickly.

"Sack time for me, boys and girls. Hope you don't get a backache from curling up on the couch, Lee," Roger winked and left.

"Beach. What if I never get to the beach again?"

"You will, Rachael, soon."

"No, now."

"We can't leave base."

"I want to feel the wind in my hair."

"Red, there are limits here."

"There are some Navy 26s on base for recreational use. Come on, Curly. Show me your captaining skills, the other kind. Just for an hour or so. Work off that pizza. Please."

"Let me talk to the master-at-arms a minute."

Lee returned a minute later. "We are going to get heat for this. You better remember the chance I took for you, Red, and return the favor."

Rachael smiled. The master-at-arms drove them to the dock. They puttered under the moonlit skies for about forty minutes. That was when Rachael pulled a gun on Lee, Roger's Sig Sauer.

"Jump off and swim to shore."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"It's an easy swim for you, Lee."

"So you can do what? Go along the coast and run? Sail out to deepwater and capsize? No dice."

"Don't make me shoot you, Lee."

"Only you can make yourself do that, Rachael, and you won't."

"No, you're right." Rachael put the gun to her head.

"Talk about a gut punch, Red. You sleep with a guy, then blow your brains out in front of him. What a parting gift!"

"Okay, so I'm being selfish." Rachael turned the gun back on him. "Hit the water so you don't have to watch."

Lee reached out to her arm and took the gun. She didn't fight it. "You know, Red, I'd have been much more scared had it been loaded."

"Why the hell are you carrying around an unloaded gun?"

"Well, I have this mentally unstable friend who keeps showing up unexpectedly so I figured I should be extra careful." Lee released the sheet and let the sail go into irons while he pulled Rachael into a hug. The hug quickly morphed into deep kissing. Lee pulled back. "You are deeply corrupting me. Give me a minute to drop anchor."

Lee kept his eyes on Rachael as he moved to the bow to drop anchor. He couldn't trust her from minute to minute. When he saw her stand up and remove her outer shirt he smiled. The next second she dove off the stern. Lee snagged the anchor tight and dove in after her. He was on her in seconds.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he asked as he dragged her back to the stern by the neck and chest. He pushed her up the stern ladder.

"Are you a dolphin or something? How did you get to me so fast?"

"I'm that good in the water, and don't forget it again."

"You're pretty good on land too," she smiled.

"What the hell was that all about?"

"I don't know. I felt sad all of the sudden. I didn't want to keep fighting that feeling. I just want to stop feeling. I don't want to hurt you or anyone else."

"Just accept that if you hurt yourself it will hurt me, and Roger, and Saul and others. Stop this shit."

"I told you that I am screwed up bad."

"It doesn't have to be a forever thing." Lee pulled her in close and hugged her. "How about focussing on what makes you feel happy instead of sad?"

Rachael rubbed up against Lee tweaking him on the butt.

"Weren't we heading that way before the swim, Red?"

"It was a mistake. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted."

"That wasn't my real apology. This is."

A few minutes later, Lee - a little breathless - wondered whether the cockpit of the Navy 26 had ever been used that way before. It was certainly a first for him. Fun, but more than a little crazy. He laughed. He'd just described Rachael. "All right, Red, time to go back and dry off. Here's something to keep you busy while I pull up anchor."

"That sounds so slutty, Commander."

"Oh, quit it."

Lee was tying an elaborate knot around one of Rachael's wrists, which he secured to a cleat.

"Bondage? I never would have guessed you the type."

"This is just in case you get any stupid ideas about jumping ship while I get us shoved off. That knot should keep you busy until we dock."

Rachael made a raspberry at Lee as he headed to the bow. Fifteen minutes later, Lee sailed them into the dock. The master-at-arms silently shamed them, Lee felt, but he was smart enough not to say anything about it as he drove them back to quarters. After a quick shower together, sleep was all that happened for the rest of the night.


	34. Chapter 34 - The Morning After

**Chapter 34 - The Morning After**

A weary Lee was dressed and drinking coffee by 0630. Roger showed up shortly afterward with breakfast food for all. "I figured you could use a little energy. She pull any tricks last night?"

Lee's eyes twinkled at Roger as he postulated the several ways he might answer the question. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

"Saul said we were to stay with her until Dr. Drake arrives."

"He's joking, right? Last night, Mallard. Today, Drake?"

"Didn't seem to be but I do detect a theme."

Rachael slid quietly into the room wearing Lee's T-shirt and her undies. "I smell coffee."

Lee poured her a cup and set it down at the table.

"I could make some crack about everyone's cravings being satisfied here, but it seems so cheap," Roger said after he took a sip of coffee. He nearly spit it out as he broke into laughter afterward. Lee did spit his.

"Could someone let me in on the joke?"

"That lovely psychiatrist, Dr. Paulino, whom you are no longer seeing, has been conditioning you. The night before last when you escaped you were told to go someplace you felt safe. I was flattered that was here. Last night, you were told to satisfy a craving."

"That would explain the white pizza with anchovies."

"Yeah, just the pizza." Roger was doubled over laughing. Lee desperately tried to suppress his own laughter, but failed. Eventually Rachael joined in the laugh fest. It continued for a solid minute, when Rachael's eyes began tearing as she laughed. Finally, she stopped.

"You okay?" Lee asked, uncertain about the tears.

"I think that's the first good laugh I've had in . . . well a long time. It felt good."

"I promise you many more yucks ahead if you have a little patience with us as we get you out of this mess."

"I'm trying, Lee"

"The doctors are going to wean you off the drugs that Paulino was dosing you with. Hopefully that will help."

The room went silent. The return to present circumstances was necessary, but unwelcome. The arrival of a handsome young doctor proved a pleasant distraction. "Behave yourself!" Lee yelled as they left Rachael with him.

Lee and Roger walked to Saul's office, trailed by Roger's personal master-at-arms. "I hope something breaks today."

"I think Rachael forgot her deadline."

"Don't be fooled, Rog. She pointed my gun at me last night and ordered me overboard."

"Overboard? Huh?"

"We went for a little sail."

"Brilliant, buddy." Roger shook his head.

"At least my gun wasn't loaded."

"So you didn't have to walk the plank after all?"

"No. She wouldn't have shot me anyway. She turned the gun on herself pretty quickly."

"Shit."

"That's when I told her it was empty. She gave it up for a while, before she jumped overboard."

Roger laughed. "She really isn't in her right mind if she thought she could out swim you! Mark Spitz might, but a normal human no way."

"I know. So don't be fooled by her. It's not all good suddenly."

"We can expect some shit to hit the fan today when Admiral Johnson finds out about Saul's stunt."

"Guess we should go see if that's happened yet."

Saul was already immersed in paperwork in the conference room, his eyes sagging. "Morning gentlemen."

"You look like you went off a cliff last night," Roger said.

"This morning, eastern time, courtesy of Admiral Johnson."

"Ugly?"

Saul shrugged. "He can moan to my boss. I'm not in his direct chain of command."

"Like that will stop him!" Roger laughed.

"He's got your back, Roger. That was the one useful piece of information I got out of him."

"Useful how?" Lee asked.

"It seems that before Miss Mattingly's murder, Admiral Johnson was the recipient of certain anonymous letters disparaging Roger's character, one of which bore a Palomar Mountain postmark."

"Coincidence?" Lee wondered aloud.

"You've been there. How likely do you think that is?"

"Maybe we could get a handwriting analysis?"

"Lee, think about what you are suggesting. It's not something we would want to use in court even if it were admissible. Frankly, I'd prefer to keep the letters anonymous and ascertain the significance of what their being written might be."

"I don't give a shit at this point. If it will help get Rachael cleared, bring it on," Roger said.

"The letters themselves won't. They only establish that Mr. Oliver appeared to have issues with your . . ."

"Sexual preference, Saul. You can say it out loud. I'm ready to shout it from the rooftops if it helps Rachael."

"Why would Oliver set out to ruin you, Rog?"

"Maybe he really loved Melanie and thought if he outed me, it would end. Lord knows, I'd be out of a job."

"Why shoot Melanie if that's the case?"

"In Mr. Oliver's rantings to Admiral Johnson he appeared to equate homosexuality with child predation and molestation. If he truly believed that, might it be possible that he would be so desperate to keep his baby from you as to kill Melanie and her fetus?" Saul asked.

"That's nonsensical. Why not just kill Roger if that was his issue? Aren't we confidant that he'd already sabotaged Roger's brakes? He had a clean line to shoot Mel, so he also had to have a good one to shoot Roger." Lee scratched his head.

"Correct, which is why I think we are missing a piece of vital information. Maybe Melanie and Oliver conspired together. Miss Mattingly offered up her baby to Roger in exchange for obtaining large amount of life insurance on Roger. Mr. Oliver sabotaged Roger's brakes in furtherance of their deal."

"Stop it. Mel wouldn't have. Mel wasn't violent and couldn't even stand violence like that. We really did have a deep friendship."

"You may be right, that she never intended to follow through or wanted you dead. But was Miss Mattingly above gaming the situation? What if Miss Mattingly was stringing Mr. Oliver along? She needed a baby and promised him the moon to get him to play along. Then she kicked him to the curb. Maybe Mr. Oliver figured it out and took his revenge on her?"

"If it were true, how the heck could we prove any of this with both of them dead?" Lee asked.

"Therein lies our problem. Two things I want to happen today are this. You two are to follow up with the studios today and any other leads on Mr. Oliver's friends and relationships. I want any personal detail you can find. Someone killed him; we need to know if the reason relates to Melanie Mattingly's murder."

"The second thing?"

"I'll be interviewing Randall Mattingly later to see what if anything he's willing to impart about Herbert Oliver. I also want to find out what he met with Miss Mattingly about. Something about him seems off kilter to me. My gut says he is our wildcard."

"I agree. He was openly disdainful of Melanie. I can't figure out why he'd have bothered to hook her up with the insurance agent in the first instant. It seems too random, especially with all the calls that followed between him and Oliver."

"Uh, guys, I followed up on the brothers Mattingly the other night. I'm more than a little confused now, however. If Oliver felt that strongly about gay men, what was he doing calling Randall Mattingly? He's queer as - well, me."

"Maybe he didn't know? It wasn't the first thing that crossed my mind on meeting him," Lee said.

Saul cocked his head and nodded. "You know, that raises an interesting thought. What if Randall Mattingly knew of Oliver's feelings on the subject? He might have manipulated Oliver."

"Oh, that's a nasty thought," Lee said.

Roger just shook his head. Saul left them alone to ponder and make more phone calls. At half past eleven, Lee yelled, "Direct hit!"

"What?"

"Oliver got tossed off a major studio lot after spouting off his thoughts about the leading actor on the set, particularly about him working with child actors."

"Oh."

Roger then picked up a ringing phone. By the time he'd put it down, five minutes later, Roger looked like he wanted to throw up. "I guess we've got some context for Oliver's issues now, mistaken though his facts were. Turns out that he was a victim of molestation as a young boy."

"Got any details, if they are relevant?"

"A gym teacher in elementary school who coached after school sports. It was an ugly situation. Apparently quite a number of children were involved, girls and boys."

"Which somehow led Oliver to despise homosexuals?"

"Despite the fact that his molester wasn't one. He was married, with children of his own, and abused both girls and boys. Many people just don't get that child predation has nothing to do with homosexuality, that on being caught, these folks overwhelmingly identify as heterosexual."

"Okay, so now we have confirmed what we already knew. Oliver had issues with homosexuals. Does that get us anything new?"

"Not to my mind. If he was so worried about me and his baby, why wouldn't he just kill me? Why go after Melanie?"

"If he were a poor shot, we could have supposed that he meant to kill you, but he wasn't."

"Yes, but who knows how much he kept up with it? Rachael's gun might have been unfamiliar to him. It has quite a recoil for a little gun because she had it specially bored. Maybe he had no chance to practice? We were only standing a couple of feet apart."

"Maybe Melanie was in with him on an insurance deal and he figured out she was double crossing him?"

"What would he get out of that? A dead ex-girlfriend, a dead baby, and no insurance proceeds to share. Unless he had insurance on Melanie. Is that possible?"

"Beats me. I don't know much about life insurance."

"I know you need some relationship to get it on someone. I just don't know if someone having your baby would suffice or if any agent would issue a policy based on a paternity claim like that."

"We'll ask Saul. He should be calling in any minute from Santa Barbara."

Lee and Roger continued to make calls and jot down thoughts until Saul called in. Roger put him on speaker phone.

"I only have a few minutes before I meet with Randall Mattingly. Find anything helpful?"

Roger filled him in on what they'd learned.

"That dovetails beautifully, gentlemen. I think we are about to crack the murder of one Herbert Oliver a.k.a. Oliver Smith. Forensics has confirmed arson at Oliver's place. They also found recent tire tracks from a Land Rover."

"Great, but exactly how does that help Rachael?"

"Oh, it's all tied together. While I'm questioning Randall Mattingly, forensics will be taking tire imprints from a Land Rover registered to Richard Mattingly, which Randall was driving during the days in question."

"Does Randall know he's a suspect?"

"Suspect? No, he's just a material witness, gentlemen. This will be a voluntarily given, noncustodial interview. No lawyers are involved. Keep your fingers crossed. Randall may crack, especially since Richard Mattingly is voluntarily cooperating in every way possible. Randall may have underestimated Richard Mattingly's love for his daughter. I'll keep you posted."

"Hold on a second, Saul! Susan just came in with something."

"Hey boss, forensics says Oliver's van matches the description and partial picture of the backfiring van at the wedding. While it was in bad shape from the fire, they found no remnants of a catalytic converter and confirmed several holes - all too regular to be natural - in the exhaust system."

"Thanks, Susan. Lunch is on me. Wish me luck, gentlemen."

"Good luck," Roger and Lee both repeated, before they both shook their heads.

"Should I order up some lunch for you two?" Susan asked.

"Thanks, but no. I think I could use a walk to clear my head."

"I want to go check on Rachael." Lee said. "Bring back something for us if you don't mind."

Roger shot Lee a sly look.

"I'm worried that Johnson has gotten through to her somehow."

"You could just call over there."

"No, I feel the need to see her."


	35. Chapter 35 - Rattling Cages

**Chapter 35 - Rattling Cages**

Rachael was pacing around quarters when Lee arrived.

"A bigger cage is still a cage, huh, Red?"

Rachael sighed. "Any hope, Lee? I'm so tired of being confined."

"It's been a long time, I know."

"Guess you would. How the hell can you stand being on a submarine for weeks or months at a time?"

"Months are hard on everyone. Weeks are much more manageable. Seaview has some advantages over Navy subs, however. It has windows to the outside, larger corridors, more spacious cabins. I can't claim it doesn't get to me sometimes. No truthful submariner could."

"How do you handle it?"

"Do my job. Fill in any extra time with activity."

"If Roger hadn't been sent back here with me, I'd have gone completely bonkers."

"Red, you are completely bonkers."

"No, seriously. Roger was the only one allowed to take me off base."

"Or buy you the occasional white pizza?"

Rachael nodded. "Any progress?"

"I think so. Specifics are murky, but we think it was the ex-boyfriend and Mel's cousin Randall working together."

"The gay one?"

"What do you know about him?"

"Not much other than that."

"Was it that obvious, because I didn't know that from a casual meeting with him?"

"Not at first. At the shooting range the day before the wedding, he asked me some questions about handling the Sig. He said he'd never handled a handgun that size. I, uh, tried to show him some technique."

"Why don't you show me exactly what you did?"

"I don't have a gun."

"Use an imaginary one."

Rachael assumed a stance with her arms stretched out as if she held a gun. "Now come behind me and put your arms around mine. Closer." When Lee didn't come in tightly enough to her body, Rachael pushed back into his body. Her intended point of contact couldn't be missed as she rubbed up and down a little.

"Jesus, Red, tell me you didn't!"

"When he didn't react, I went for this move." Rachael swung her free hand behind Lee and cupped his tush. "No reaction to that one either. Gay."

Lee pulled away from Rachael. She turned toward him.

"Maybe he just wasn't interested in you?"

"Certainly not like you appear to be at the moment, sailor!" Rachael eyed Lee's privates, before she moved in to make further advances. Lee offered no protestations.

Lee was dozing with his arms around Rachael when she whispered to him. "I'm gonna' miss you, Curly."

"Huh?" Lee prised his eyes fully open. "What does that mean?"

"This. I'm gonna miss it. Wish we'd done it sooner."

"Where exactly do you think you're going?"

"This is going to end soon, one way or another. You'll go back to your ship."

"Boat. Subs are boats."

"Boat then."

"I do come off it occasionally."

"Of course."

"Where do you expect to be?"

"Elsewhere. Where is out of my hands."

"I'm not following."

"If I'm not cleared, you know." Rachel mimicked shooting herself in the head. "If I am cleared, it's up to Johnson."

"You could walk away. You should."

Rachael shook her head.

"You want to explain your relationship with Johnson to me?"

"It's complicated."

"I can handle complicated."

Rachael shook her head.

"You've slept with him?"

Rachael looked straight ahead. She didn't answer.

"I won't think any less of you if you say yes."

"Why not?"

"I'm well aware of the pressure put on women in the service by their superiors, from the intended to the unintended pressure."

"Johnson's not a bad guy, Lee. You know he lost his whole family in a car crash fifteen years ago. He's just lonely and afraid of being alone, if you can believe that."

"That seems a stretch. How did it start?"

"Panama Canal. We were both pretty toasted. The next morning was more than a little awkward."

"I imagine so. How long ago was that?"

"Five years. It's not a regular thing."

"Just when he wants it, right?"

"He's the one with the stars."

"You could have resigned. Why didn't you?"

"As I said, it wasn't that regular a thing. Besides, I got things out of it."

"Like what? I know you earned your rank."

"Yes, I did. Maybe twice over!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to demean you."

"He's been my advocate and protector. Hands off, Johnson's watching! It wasn't a bad tradeoff to avoid some of the scum out there."

"Someday it will change, I hope." Lee wrapped his arms around Rachael.

"For women. For Roger. God, I hope."

"He used the threat of exposing Roger to keep you in line, didn't he?"

"Not exactly. I threw myself on that land mine years ago."

"And again recently?"

"Why should Roger go down for being kind to Melanie?"

"No, I don't mean that. You know about the letters Johnson got, don't you?"

Rachael shrugged.

"What does Johnson want from you?"

Rachael shrugged again.

"Tell me. Maybe I can help."

"Lee Crane, Commander Goody Two Shoes. You don't spend enough time in the espionage business anymore. The hats are all shades of grey now. No more black and white. Not me, not Johnson."

"This is black and white, Red." Lee caught his bad phrase and laughed. So did Rachael. "I bet Admiral Johnson can't do this for you." Lee caressed her. "When you're ready to get out, you will let me know?" Lee tried his best to ignore images of Johnson in his head as he began to kiss Rachael.

The next thing Lee knew, Roger was bursting into the bedroom. "Jesus, you two. Did you not hear me pounding on the door? Could you not answer the damn phone? Apparently not! Too busy screwing each others brains out?" Roger crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. Then he cracked up. "Put some damn clothes on and meet me in the living room!"

Embarrassed (Lee was at least, Rachael not so clearly), they complied with Roger's demand.

"Is there any leftover pizza?" Rachael yawned.

"It's your damned freedom, Rach, and you're thinking about pizza?"

"I'm hungry."

"What's up, Roger?"

"Confirmation of Randall Mattingly's involvement. The Land Rover tracks matched. They even pulled out mud and vegetation matching Palomar Mountain's from the tires."

"That's it? Muddy tires are supposed to excite us? I'd prefer pizza."

"How laissez faire we've become, Rach. Has something changed that I should know about?"

Lee shook his head 'no' behind Rachel. Roger took the hint and backed off.

"I already confessed. Absent a better confession, none of this matters."

"Your confession won't hold up. We've got a list of psychiatrists who can testify to your mental state and confusion."

"I won't let it get that far. I'd still be locked up and your career would be wrecked."

"Stop with that already. Not once have I ever asked you to sacrifice yourself for my benefit. If I'm tossed from the Navy, then screw it. I'm a big boy, Rach. I'll manage. What I can't cope with is you committing suicide or going to jail to protect me. Read my lips closely. I will not allow you to martyr yourself. Why don't you start thinking about some of the things you want out of life? I know it hasn't gone like we expected, but you can work around nearly anything. Next to this bozo, you are the most resourceful person I ever met."

"Excuse me? Exactly how is Lee more resourceful than me?"

Roger hesitated a moment. "He can fly this yellow saucer thing."

"The Flying Sub."

"It's the craziest thing you've ever ridden in," Roger smiled.

"No, it isn't, because I never have."

"I can fix that, Red."

"Can you teach me to fly it?"

"Uh, not so much."

"Why not?"

"It's not mine. You'd have to change jobs, train, and um, well, we don't exactly have any women on the Seaview on a regular basis."

"Chauvinist pig."

"Navy regs. I'd change them. For you at the very least."

"Yeah, so I could live at sea with a hundred plus horny sailors trapped in tin can. No, Navy got that one right. Now, can we do something about some lunch?"


	36. Chapter 36 - An Abrupt Change of Course

**Chapter 36 - An Abrupt Change of Course**

Rachael demolished half a pizza, cold, as Lee nibbled halfheartedly on a sandwich Roger had brought from the mess hall.

Roger pulled Lee aside. "Something wrong, buddy?"

"I just have an odd feeling."

"About what?"

"I can't quite put my finger on it."

"Good or bad feeling?"

Lee shrugged. The phone interrupted them.

"Saul called. He said to turn on KGTV and wait."

Roger turned on the set. The three friends positioned themselves on the couch with Rachael in the center.

"Not my favorite soap opera," Roger remarked. A minute later, the three of them were on the couch speculating and encouraging bad behavior from characters about whom they knew nothing. As 1500 hours approached, they'd gotten positively silly to avert boredom. Near the end of the hour, local news broke into programming.

"KGTV has learned that investigators have solved Sunday's mysterious shooting death of a prominent socialite during her wedding. The alleged killer of Melanie Mattingly was the bride's cousin, Randall Mattingly. He reportedly confessed to a federal investigator and family members shortly before he committed suicide in front of them. An earlier confession by the groom's best friend, a female soldier who had been under medical care for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, has been completely refuted by this revelation. Tune in to the local news at five o'clock on this station for details on this breaking story."

Roger flung his hands around Rachael's neck. "You're free."

Lee hugged her afterward. "Better now?"

Rachael didn't react.

"Rach, what's going on? Why aren't you happier?"

"I'll be back in a bit." Rachael headed toward the bathroom.

Saul called moments later. "You heard?"

"Yes, it was kind of abrupt," Roger said. "Hold on, I'm putting you on speaker."

"It felt abrupt and I was there. Let's just say that Randall Mattingly was beginning to drown in circumstantial evidence. The crooks always think they are smarter than everyone, that they can cover every track. Then they foul up in the most ridiculous ways. All those phone records. Then he used the Land Rover to go to Oliver's place. Can you believe that Mattingly stopped on the way to Palomar Mountain to buy a gas container, which he had the attendant fill for him so he didn't get his hands dirty? The attendant remembered Randall Mattingly vividly because of that, especially because Randall was wearing driving gloves at the time!"

"Did he really tell you everything?"

"Oh, yes, once he was cornered, it was like a brag fest. Randall was proud of how he manipulated both Melanie Mattingly and Herbert Oliver. He recounted in detail how he set the whole thing in motion, first by persuading Melanie to take out the insurance policy and even getting Roger to pay for it. After all, a man in active service like Roger owed his family protection!"

"So I was the real target?" Roger asked as Rachael wandered back into the room.

"Yes, ideas began spinning in Randall's head when Melanie brought you to Santa Barbara meet her family. Roger, Randall had met you before."

"Damn. This was all my fault."

"Hardly. Randall Mattingly had been looking for ways to free Richard Mattingly from his daughter's leeching long before you came into the picture."

"Oh, that's better. I'm just a tool."

Lee and Rachael both laughed.

"What's going on there, Romper Room? I'm trying to tell you the whole story!"

"Sorry, Saul. It's just a bit of a release for everyone. We'll behave," Lee promised. "Go on."

"When Randall met up with Melanie to bring her the policy, he decided to warm up his relationship with his cousin. He took her to an expensive lunch, plied her with a drink or two, and slipped her some spending cash knowing that daddy had cut her off. Melanie responded by opening up a little to Randall about some concerns in her life. The day before meeting with Randall, she had taken delivery of Rachael's personal effects. She was still carrying them around with her because Rachael was expected to visit with Roger at the apartment after the delivery came. Melanie didn't know what to do with the stuff, especially the gun. She told Randall all about Rachael and Roger's line of work, as well as her concerns about Rachael's state of mind and continuing presence in Roger's life. Melanie said that Rachael scared the shit out of her. She was afraid for herself and the baby." Saul paused a moment. "I was waiting to hear the 'thud' that just occurred there, folks. I know it happened when I heard it."

"Thud!" Roger and Lee said together.

"Giant freaking thud," Rachael added.

"So of course it was Randall to the rescue. He offered to take the gun from Melanie for safekeeping and she was only too happy to get rid of it. Randall's wheels really began to spin then. After a few days' thought, he called Melanie to drop a bombshell of his own. He told her that he was quite certain that the baby wasn't Roger's. He doesn't want to hurt Melanie, but if Melanie won't tell him about the baby's real father, he will tell her parents the truth about Roger, quote 'all of it.' Randall assured her that it was only so he could protect the family from any threat, not to hurt Melanie. Melanie was understandably upset, but told him about Oliver anyway. She had some concerns about him too, and she really wanted it to work with Roger. Randall found it quite amusing that Melanie believed she could really change Roger's nature."

"Poor Mel," Lee said. "As if she didn't have enough on her plate already."

"I'm sorry! I might have meant to make her run away, but I never threatened to physically harm her."

"You were freaking scary at times, Rach! You didn't have to make actual threats for her to feel threatened," Roger scolded.

"I'd take it back now if I could. Well, most of it." Rachael got up and stalked out towards the bathroom.

"Do you all want to hear the rest?" Saul interrupted. "Randall approached Oliver to feel him out. When it was clear to Randall that Oliver was still hung up on Melanie, it was just a matter of discovering how far Oliver would go to get her back and what might push his buttons.

It was during a visit to a shooting range with Oliver that Randall learned all he needed to know to come up with a plan. First, Randall was an excellent shot. Second, Oliver had - as you discovered earlier - a rabid hatred and fear of homosexuals.

A few days afterward, Randall met up with Oliver and explained to him that Melanie's upcoming marriage to Roger would be a sham. Melanie really wanted to be with Oliver. Melanie was marrying Roger for money only and had taken a big insurance policy out on his life."

"Anybody who knew Mel knew she couldn't kill a bug, let alone a person!" Roger interrupted.

"That's exactly what Randall counted on Oliver knowing. Oliver ranted that he didn't see what good an insurance policy would do them. Randall then began to pour it on thick. He told Oliver what kind of work Roger does. He could die in the line of duty any day. Oliver smartly noted that he apparently survived doing it for a long time already. Randall them hemmed and hawed about a secret that he wasn't sure he wanted to share with Oliver. Mel wanted Oliver to know, but Randall was afraid that Oliver wouldn't be able to control himself if he did. Randall demanded assurances before he revealed to Oliver that Roger is gay. Oliver cursed and ranted some, but he still didn't show the hand that Randall was looking for, so Randall took things to another level.

He told Oliver that Melanie was marrying Roger knowing he is gay and knowing that he would die soon because he has AIDS. Randall explained it was just a matter of time before Oliver and Melanie could be together and with plenty of money too. That was what Mel wanted more than anything and why Randall was sent to talk to Oliver. Randall has just one concern, one that Mel was a little worried about also. What if something were to happen to Melanie and the baby before Roger died naturally? Randall points out that there have been plenty of cases of accidental transmission of AIDS, after all.

That pushes Oliver over the edge. The words 'I'll kill the bastard before he can hurt my baby and Mel' followed quickly. Randall told Oliver that if he meant it, he had an idea of what to do. He just needed to talk it over with Melanie first, because if Oliver acted without Melanie's approval, Oliver could end up with nothing.

Randall let Oliver stew for twenty-four hours before he got back to him. He told him that Melanie was on board, but has asked two things of Oliver. First, to please make it as quick and painless as you can. She didn't want Roger to suffer."

"Oh lucky me," Roger interjected.

"Second, under no circumstance is Oliver to talk to Melanie directly or they risk discovery. After all, Roger is in the intelligence business."

"I sure wasn't acting like it," Roger castigated himself.

"Well, you may have been blind to some things, but on the whole, I'd have to say you got screwed merely by acting honorably and expecting the same of others," Saul said.

"I wonder if Randall encouraged Oliver to write to Johnson?" Lee asked.

"He didn't say and I didn't want to get too far off track by asking."

"What I still don't understand is how Melanie ended up dead instead of Roger? And how do you explain Oliver tampering with Roger's brake line? It doesn't make sense to me," Lee said.

"Randall's original idea was to wait until after the wedding to kill Roger. He wanted to plan everything out in impeccable detail. Unfortunately, Oliver got a little cocky waiting for Randall's plan, so he came up with one of his own. Oliver knew Mel well enough to know she'd walk before riding in Roger's sedan. The night before the wedding, Oliver proudly called Randall and told him that he'd taken care of everything quietly by piercing Roger's brake line. He'd be dead the next time he drove his car on the freeway.

With two minutes of thought, Randall figured out that the chances of killing Roger that way were remote at best. He felt they needed to move fast, because frankly he was concerned with what evidence Oliver might have left behind. So Randall quickly worked out a plan to shoot Roger at the wedding and frame Rachael for it. Melanie had put the general idea in his head when she gave him the gun. To quote Melanie, 'I can just see that nut job taking a shot at me on my wedding day.'"

Rachael emerged from the bathroom at that point. "Hey, I resemble that remark!"

"A little too true for comfort," Saul said. "Anyway, Randall knew the set up of the grounds from the rehearsal earlier in the week. That gave him a leg up in planning the murder. The difficult part was figuring out a distraction to pin it on Rachael. He and Oliver jointly concocted the backfiring van scheme. Oliver borrowed video gear, and set up a tripod just outside the potted yews so nothing looked untoward if anyone spotted him there. He didn't move into position until the ceremony was well underway to avoid being noticed. Even if he had been noticed, it probably wouldn't have mattered. He could pass for a guest in the tux and no one pays much attention to the photographers after a bit."

"Except Mel's friend Mimi thought she'd seen him, not that the testimony of a coke head was likely to mean much if it came to that," Lee said.

"Come on! You still haven't explained why it was Mel who got shot instead of me?"

"Yes, well you know the saying. 'The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.' Melanie did spot Oliver before the wedding began. She told Oliver to leave, she didn't want him there, and that he would ruin everything. Oliver assumed someone must be listening in and that she was acting. He whispered to her. 'It's okay, baby. We'll be together soon. We'll have lots of dough. It'll be great.' Melanie shook her head. 'Roger's more of a man than you ever were, in and out of the sack. Get out of here.'"

"Excuse me?" Rachael turned to Roger.

Roger stalled. "There was a night when Rosser came to town. I came back home drunk as a skunk. I have a hazy recollection of Melanie crawling into bed next to me, trying her best to get me interested. She took it as a personal mission. I have no recollection of her succeeding, however."

"Truth wouldn't stop her from claiming victory, one way or another," Rachael said.

"Given that Randall pumped Oliver's head full of fears about Roger having AIDS, you can imagine Oliver's reaction to the idea that Melanie had slept with both Roger and him."

"So he shot Melanie instead of me, because of what she said. Jesus. That's just sick."

"Yes, well, but for the gun jamming, there might have been a second shot that took you out, Roger. Forensics just added that little detail to the report this afternoon. Sand in the firing mechanism."

"Sand in freaking everything over there," Rachael complained.

"Let me guess the next part," Lee said. "Randall was upset at Oliver for deviating from the plan, upset enough to kill him."

"Yes, although Randall intended to kill Oliver in any case. After Oliver changed the target, Randall worried that Oliver would come unhinged. Randall knew he had to hurry. Randall called Oliver around midnight. Oliver explained what had happened. As Randall expected, Oliver was distraught and probably strung out too. Randall couldn't predict what Oliver might do next even with Rachael having confessed. So right after the call, Randall hurried out to the La Fortuna Hotel garage where he is captured on time-stamped video leaving in the Land Rover. Then Randall stopped for gas on the way, even getting the attendant to fill a gas can strapped to the back of the car too, a can that wasn't on the car when it returned to the garage later. Careless moves, yes, the gas can and the arson, but even then Randall professed that he wasn't too worried."

"No, of course not. Rachael had already confessed to Mel's murder and her own gun was the murder weapon. When the police eventually would find Oliver's body, who would connect it to Melanie's murder?" Roger asked.

"No one, at least no time soon, is what Randall figured. Yes, he wished there were no phone records to tie him to Oliver, but on the whole, he was still confident. He could explain away the calls and any meetings as dealing with Oliver trying to harass Melanie, and Randall trying to handle the matter to protect the family. Besides, Oliver dealt drugs. He figured the whole thing would be written off quickly by the cops."

"It might have happened just that way, Saul, if not for you," Lee said.

"I had fine help who all believed the same thing that I did."

"That the nut job didn't do it?" Rachael said.

"What a waste. Mel, the baby, Oliver, Randall, all dead," Roger said sadly. "For what?"

"Uh, yes, about that, Roger. Melanie appears on the rolls of Mattingly Industries as an officer, a nominal position of course, but nevertheless real enough. Randall had also arranged for the company to buy a policy worth two million dollars on Melanie's life."

"Okay, but none of the proceeds from any of the policies would have gone directly to Randall. I don't see what he really stood to gain," Roger said.

"The company is a small, family held business. It's Randall's heritage and, in his mind, was his birthright. That and he is, was, the Treasurer and Chief Financial Officer. Chances are his hands would have gotten to the money. That said, I don't think he ever intended anything untoward regarding Richard. He idolized him. He wanted to work by his side and take the company reigns over in due course. He wanted to protect it from Melanie. Randall really had deluded himself that he was doing this not only for himself but for Richard.

When it really fell apart for Randall wasn't when I confronted him with all the circumstantial evidence. It was when Richard failed to show his appreciation for what Randall had done. You could see Randall deflate as Richard grew increasingly upset at him. By the end, Richard was yelling distraughtly at Randall. 'You killed my baby! My joy! My life! I could never forgive you. I hope you burn in hell.' Let me tell you that he meant it. No one could doubt it. That was when Randall opened his desk drawer, pulled out a gun and didn't hesitate before shooting himself in the head."

"I suppose that wasn't the worst result possible," Roger said.

"I'd have preferred he'd done it in private."

"Nasty business to watch," Lee stated and glared at Rachael for having threatened to do that in front of him earlier. "When will you be back here?"

"Late, maybe 9:00."

"Maybe we can grab some dinner out to . . . to . . . I can't exactly say celebrate, but to commend our good work," Lee said.

"I'm not sure I could eat given today, but a drink, for certain. I'll swing by your quarters after I get back and changed."

"Great. Thanks for all your hard work," Lee said.

"Same to you guys too."

Both Roger and Lee glared at Rachael. She'd said nothing, no words of thanks.

"What?"

"You might thank the man."

"Thank you man."

Saul hung up without further word. The friends were silent for several minutes.

"If we are going out, I'd like some real clothes instead of Daisy Duke shorts and a luau shirt."

"I suppose we could get you a uniform."

"Yes, could you make it one that says I've just been let off the hook for murder so watch me drink myself silly?"

"I don't think you should drink with all the medicine you're taking."

"Spoilsport."

"I'll run into town and see if I can do better."

"Why can't I go?"

Lee and Roger looked at each other for answers.

"Let's wait until Saul's back just so we can be certain what your legal status is."

"I'm not certain what it was before."

"Me either, Rach. Sorry." Roger knew better than to wait and pulled out. Lee followed him just outside the door. "Keep a close eye on her, Lee."

"I had the same thought. That feeling I had. Things just went our way, but I don't feel completely settled about it."

"It was rather a clunker. Maybe it's because we weren't there for the ending?"

"Maybe, although I'm glad I missed it. Hmmm. Looks like Rachael's personal master-at-arms hasn't been called off yet." Lee scratched his chin wondering.


	37. Chapter 37 - An Unexpected Turn

** Chapter 37 - An Unexpected Turn**

Lee showered and changed after assurances from the master-at-arms that he would not leave without letting Lee know first. Lee was pleased to see that Rachael had not tried to take advantage of the opportunity to flee. Roger returned an hour later with clothes that suited his gal pal well. Rachael went off to clean up and change, leaving the men alone.

"I think I could use you as my personal shopper too."

"You might not like what I attract for you so much, pal!"

"Hey, you're the one who always seems to have a beautiful girl nearby. Me, I only have the gray lady. She's beautiful in her own way, I suppose."

"When do you sail again?"

"I don't know. What day is today?"

"Just been one long one, it feels."

"Next Tuesday, if all is on schedule."

"Some great leave you've had!"

"It all worked out. Got to spend quality time with you sifting through phone records and receipts."

"Quality time with Rachael too. Think you two will stay in touch?"

"Why wouldn't we?"

"I'm sure you'll come up with something."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's not a personal attack, just an observation. You have trouble maintaining relationships with women. It's inevitable given what you do. What sane woman would wait around for you to visit every two to six weeks and give her a few precious minutes of your time?"

"Rachael's not sane. That could work in my favor."

"Lee, be a pal. Don't even think about stringing this along."

"Excuse me?"

"For her sake. She really needs some stability in her life. I love you buddy, but I don't think you're it."

"I feel a little hurt at that. Besides stability is not my problem, availability is."

"Forgive my poor word choice, then. Listen to my content."

"Am I supposed to just disappear, no contact at all?"

"No, I'm not saying that. You know what I mean."

"Well, maybe I don't like it then!" Lee threw a pillow across the room.

Rachael emerged dressed and sassy. "What the hell were you two shouting about?"

"We're fighting over you, darlin'. I get dibs tonight." Roger glared at Lee.

Rachael glared too, puzzled.

Lee had no comment. Roger went to put some music on the radio to distract them all. Classical music.

"May I have this dance, milady?" Roger took Rachael in his arms. It was obviously a well rehearsed routine between the two.

"May I cut in?" Lee interrupted after thirty seconds. Roger glared but yielded when Rachael nodded.

She pulled in tight to Lee. "What's going on between you two?"

Lee whispered back. "He's afraid I'm going to disappoint you. He may be right."

"Don't worry about my big brother over there, Curly. I have no expectations of you. Not beyond tonight at least," she winked.

Lee felt himself relaxing suddenly. Saul came to the door just before the dance ended. "I see I missed the beginning of the party. Hope you saved one for me."

"Of course."

"Later, I meant. We have reservations."

"Could we hold up a minute, Saul? I think I speak for us all that I'd like tonight not to be about Mel's murder, but I did want to follow up on something."

"Sure thing, Lee. What's on your mind?"

"Mel's car, the flat. Did Randall or Oliver do that?"

"No, Lee it was pure dumb luck - bad luck - on your part."

"Assisted by Mel, no doubt," Roger nodded. "She was brutal on sidewalls."

"Actually, I have one last question for you, Roger, if you want to answer it," Saul said. "If Melanie had told you about losing the baby, would you have, you know, donated your sperm or whatever?"

Roger looked pensive. "You mean impregnate her the old fashioned way? No, I doubt I could have physically. I just don't roll that way, and if I'm being completely honest, even though I felt hurt by Mel's deceit, I can't swear we'd have gone forward with any of it, baby making or wedding if I'd known she lost the baby. I liked Mel, I really did, and I wanted to help her, but without the situation existing, I . . . I don't know . . . so I guess I understand her desperation a little."

"It was a sad situation all around," Saul said, "but now it's time to move forward. Come on, we're due at the restaurant in fifteen minutes."

Except for Saul, they all dug heartily into steak dinners. Afterward, Roger directed them to a hotel bar with soft jazz. They took turns dancing with Rachael. Lee couldn't have imagined such a pleasant evening after all that had happened during the week. As they waited for Rachael to return from the powder room, Lee thought ahead to how he might enjoy the end of the evening. Only the minutes stretched and Rachael didn't return. Saul asked a waitress to check on Rachael. "She's gone."

"Damn. How could we let our guard down like that?" Lee asked.

"She helped us do it. Set it up like the pro she is," Roger said.

"Where do you think she went?" Saul asked.

"Not a clue," Roger said. Lee nodded in agreement.

"Do you think she had something planned?"

"Yes," Lee admitted with embarrassment.

"What are the odds of us finding her if that's the case?"

"Zero," Roger said.

"Saul, we hadn't had a chance to bring it up, but what exactly is Rachael's legal status now?"

"After our discussion with Ducky, I'd be more worried about her medical status. She needs to be weaned off the drugs. She'll be highly unstable if she isn't."

Lee and Roger looked knowingly at each other. "She hasn't exactly been stable on them, Saul," Roger said.

"I know that. It could get worse, however."

"What can we do?"

"Bulletins to airports, bus and train terminals. Not much else."

"She doesn't even have an i.d. or any cash."

"Which means she's got to steal something . . ."

"Or this is prearranged," Lee said. "Johnson. We should have expected him to make a play."

"This fast?" Roger said halfheartedly. "This fast," he sighed in acknowledgment.


	38. Chapter 38 - Sacrifices

** Chapter 38 - Sacrifices**

Lee, Roger and Saul returned to base. Numerous phone calls resulted in no information. Admiral Johnson was "unavailable." They knew that wouldn't change anytime soon. The men split up until morning.

Lee turned sullen. Rachael was gone. He accepted full responsibility for it, whether he bore it or not, and he didn't like the fact one bit.

At midnight, his phone rang. He picked up quickly, certain it was Rachael.

"Lee, I saw the news. Will you be home soon?"

"Um, yes, admiral."

"Sorry for calling so late."

"It's okay, sir. I'm happy to hear your voice"

"Been a tough week, lad?"

"Yes, sir."

"Will you be heading home soon?" We got those new contracts."

"Good work, sir. Yes. I suppose I'll head back tomorrow."

"You don't sound very happy about it. Want to talk?"

"It's . . . it's complex."

"Right, Lee, because I can't handle complexity."

"Not intellectually complex. Emotionally complex."

"I'm all ears."

"I can't just now."

"Okay, when you're ready, I'm here."

"Thanks, sir. It'll be good to get home. Back to normal."

Lee hopped into the shower. He headed to bed. As bone weary as he was, he still reached out expecting her there. Stupid, he self-chastised. Whatever had happened, he was headed back to his boat, his lady, at the end. Why should that bother him now? Oh yes, because Roger had waited. Rachael had waited. Too long. Both had been denied the futures they'd imagined and lost them. Lee also kept waiting. There was work to do. Adventures to be had. Only room for one steady lady. It was a choice. A lonely choice, it seemed at the moment, but one he'd rarely regretted. How long, he wondered, before that would change, before life would change things irrevocably? Was what happened with Rachael just pity? Sympathy? Or did Lee have wants and needs that he had deluded himself about? Did it matter? He didn't make the choice. Rachael did, by leaving. Without a word. Why did it bother him so?

Lee eventually drifted off to sleep. He awoke at his customary time and put the coffee on. He drank it alone. No one drifted in attracted by the smell. At 0700, Roger called.

"I'm heading back to D.C.. I've been reactivated."

"I guess that's good."

"More like a miracle after Randall Mattingly's confession."

"I was worried about that."

"Saul edited his official report a lot. He said Dick and Doris didn't even believe the nonsense that Randall had spouted. They told him they would never say anything about it to anyone. I made their daughter happy and that was all that mattered to them. Good folks."

"I hope they meant it."

"Hey, it's just one more ticking bomb in my file! I think I'm going to get to work on an exit strategy soon. In the meantime, a man needs to earn a living."

"You think Rachael's there?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I've been reactivated. Johnson wants to keep me close. Just in case, I suspect."

"Tell her . . . tell her that she has options."

"You are not an option. Rachael and I do not lie to each other."

"Roger . . . don't make decisions for us. Think about it, please."

"Okay. You were there for us. Went off a mountain for me, I suppose. I won't forget that, I promise."

"Don't. Keep in touch."

That was it. Lee headed home. His condo was fixed up like new. Many thanks were owed to Sharkey. The only flaw was how empty it seemed. Lee sat on the balcony nursing a beer for lunch. It wasn't even one of his. Sharkey left one over. It wasn't very good, but it was there. Lee hadn't the energy to shop, nor the incentive. Chip was coming over to take Lee to dinner, at Nelson's insistence, Lee suspected. Tomorrow and after he'd be at the Institute for meals. The pattern of his life would quickly resume. He felt at once reassured by that fact and also threatened. What would be there for him in three years? Five years?

He drifted off in the lounge chair watching the surf. He barely heard the doorbell. By the time he got there, the courier was gone. A thick manila envelope leaned by his door. Lee retrieved it. Inside was a videotape and another envelope. He emptied the package onto the coffee table. A small note fell out. "Curly, be more careful next time! XOXO."

Lee popped the videotape in as he sat on the couch and opened the envelope. Lee's hand came to his brow as he saw the tape. He stopped it. He didn't need to see more. He poured out the contents of the inner envelope. Stills of the video. Another note: "Thanks for everything, sailor."

How foolish he'd been. That club. The coke he'd bought for Screaming Mimi, the lines he'd pretended to snort. It was all caught on film, bereft of evidence of his innocent intent, and not catching his subtle disposal of the lines into his handkerchief and, later, the trash. He'd left himself wide open. Johnson didn't hesitate to use it. He'd used Lee against Rachael just as he'd used Roger. Lee hung his head in his hands. "I might as well be an amateur. Damn him!" Lee tossed a pillow at the T.V.. It didn't make him feel better.

Lee tried to see the positive. Rachael was accepting of Johnson, even forgiving. Maybe whatever she was doing was what she really wanted. Yeah, right. Lee didn't believe it. In fact, he began to doubt everything Rachael had told him about her relationship with Johnson that last day. It felt like a set up for this. She was doing whatever she needed to protect her friends. Cost had ceased to matter to her after what she'd experienced in Kuwait. But how could Johnson sink so low? Lee pulled out the videotape from its casing and tossed it along with the stills in the fireplace. He burned the reminders of his mistake although he felt confident others still existed.

Lee's thoughts ran wild for an hour. No solutions came to him. Roger had been right. Lee wasn't an alternative for Rachael in any kind of realistic way. It didn't stop Lee's aching for her sacrifice or for what he might have lost himself. At last Lee let it go. Thinking what might have been was never productive. He had his life, his friends. He'd go on unchanged. Okay, a little changed. Probably no one would notice in a week, even Lee. That made him feel a little sad again. Only Chip's arrival roused Lee out of his funk.

"You look wrung out. Want to talk about it?"

"No, I think I'd rather be distracted."

"Great. Let me tell you about those meetings in D.C. I had to sub for you in. Enthralling."

"You sealed the deal. Good work."

"I'd have rather mopped the poopdeck."

"We don't have a poopdeck."

"Which shows how desperate I became."

Lee smiled. "I missed you."

"Hey, at least you got lucky."

"How did you know?"

"Because you look so lost now."

"It's that obvious?"

"Yes."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Besides finding that mythical perfect sailor's wife? Beats me."

"You found a great gal."

"With a supportive family of her own plus my own gigantic clan to help, yes."

"I don't have the same playing cards, is that what you're saying?"

"That and you have more responsibilities. You aren't a shirker. You could work on that some, you know."

"I don't think your wife would appreciate it."

"There are others. We're getting older, Lee. The next generation has to learn to take over."

"Or be taken over."

"Let's not go there. It's been a while. I'm hoping those days are past. In fact, maybe we just imagined them."

"Maybe."

"Want to head out to dinner?"

"I suppose."

Lee let Chip carry the conversation for the evening: the meetings, the boat, another child on the way.

"Another blue-eyed blonde," Lee muttered. That somehow led Lee to imagine Rachael, her wild red hair flying as she held a small boy in her arms. Except in the next image there was a bleeding bullet hole in the child's back, the color of his blood clashing with Rachael's hair.

"Hey, where did you go, buddy?"

"No place good." Lee tried to shrug it off.

"I think what you need is sleep."

"I could stand to catch up."

Chip dropped Lee off at home. Lee headed straight for the bedroom, but a red blink from the answering machine caught his eye.

"Lee, it's Roger. I guess she's okay. I got an interesting package from her today. It was posted from D.C., so hopefully I'll track her down soon. There's not much question that she's back under his thumb. Call me soon."

"Hi Lee. It's Saul. I got a call from Ducky, Dr. Mallard that is. He ran into Rachael at Walter Reed. He knows her doctor and consulted. He thinks she's being treated appropriately. I asked him to keep an eye on her if he could. He seemed quite intrigued by the proposition. He's a good man for her to have in her corner, so I guess I'm suggesting that you shouldn't worry too much. Telling myself that at least. Anyway, thanks for all your hard work. I don't think she'd have made it through without all of us supporting her. I had hopes that I could convince her to break free of Johnson and come on board at N.C.I.S.. I think she'd be a great asset. I don't know that I'll ever get the chance, but well, if you have any opportunity to put a bug in her ear . . . well, you know what I mean. It was good to meet you and work with you. Don't be a stranger."

Lee left the messages on the machine. He'd listen again tomorrow for any nuances his tired brain might have missed. He peeled off his clothes, prepped for bed and quickly fell into a hard sleep clutching a pillow between his outstretched arms. When he woke in the same position, he felt sad that what lay between his arms was only a pillow.


	39. Chapter 39 - News Arrives

** Chapter 39 - News Arrives**

Two weeks later, Admiral Johnson publicly announced he would be retiring in two months. A week after the retirement date passed, Lee received a letter from Roger as well as a parcel posted from D.C. with no return address. Lee opened the parcel first. He found a note and an inner envelope.

"Curly, the cupboards have been emptied. No more worries."

The inner package contained a file of photos and negatives as well as assorted reports. There were things that Lee had never thought of as incriminating, but which out of context could be interpreted as such, including the negatives of the stills from that club. Lee knew that Roger would have received an even bigger package.

Lee's emotions were mixed. On the one hand, he was relieved. If Johnson had unleashed pictures of him appearing to snort cocaine, Lee might have lost his command. Nelson would have believed Lee's explanation, but the Navy ultimately had the power to remove him from the ship. Nelson's nuclear sub operated at the indulgence of and - face it - ultimately under the command of the Navy.

Lee also felt rage at Johnson for using Rachael as he had, to protect her friends, as he stockpiled weapons of blackmail and control. He was mad at Rachael too, for having sacrificed herself for him and Roger.

Lee decided not to dwell on it further. He burned the evidence and moved on to Roger's letter. A Washington Post newspaper photo clipping from four days earlier fell out as he unfolded the letter. The photo of was of Johnson and Rachael dressed in formal wear. The text: "Just married: Admiral Robert Johnson, USN (ret.), and Lt. Commander Rachael MacAdam, USN. Wed in a private ceremony, the newly retired admiral and his bride, now on reserve status, plan to travel extensively in the next several months." Lee sighed and inhaled deeply before he read Roger's note.

"Lee, by now you've heard from her as have I. You're probably as mad as I am at the two of them. That said, I wanted to let you know - for your own comfort in the days ahead - that things are not entirely what they seem. I trust her with my life and you should too."

Lee scratched his head at the crypticness of Roger's message. He was tempted to call him, but knew better. Roger had revealed all that he would for the time being.

Lee's life continued on its normal course, work and more work. Chip toiled desperately at finding fix ups for Lee, but even though Lee had expressed a desire for what Chip had, Lee didn't show much interest in seriously pursuing a relationship. Chip couldn't help but wonder what it meant. Had Lee been so hurt by what had happened that he was unwilling to risk it again? Or had he accepted that he wasn't willing to change his life for that particular want? Lee wasn't talking, however, so Chip let it drop.

Six months after Roger's wedding fiasco, during a layover in Peru, the command crew visited the American embassy. Inside, Lee observed Nelson roll up a newspaper and stuff it in his briefcase. Lee found it odd because Nelson glanced toward him as he did it, but said nothing. Lee dismissed the act by assuming Nelson read something interesting that he ultimately decided wouldn't appeal to Lee.

Back on the boat that evening, Harry invited Lee to meet him in the front porch for a drink. Harry poured Lee two fingers of scotch without asking.

"What's up, sir?"

"That transparent, am I?"

"We've served together for a long time."

Harry nodded. "I, uh, came across something in Stars and Stripes when we were at the embassy."

"Why not show it to me there?"

"I wanted you to feel free to react naturally to it. Page 23." Harry handed over the paper and waited for Lee to read. "He lost his entire family in a car crash years ago. Still, I'm surprised at this age he would start over with children."

Lee smiled thinly. "I guess he had her back after all."

"What do you mean?"

"Rachael wanted children, but after Kuwait, it wasn't a physical possibility. Given her mental health history since then, traditional adoption routes wouldn't be an option. Johnson could take that out of the equation, I suppose."

"Yes, he could. He is talented at both collecting and suppressing information."

Lee nodded knowing only too well. "I'm happy for her."

"Lee, there's something else. Look closely at that picture."

Lee studied it. "Rachael looks happy."

"No, look at Johnson."

"I've seen him look better. He's thinner than I've ever seen him."

"There are rumors that he isn't well. That's why he retired when he did."

"Sorry to hear that, I suppose."

"Kind of odd to adopt a child if that's the case, don't you think?"

"If you want the truth of it, sir, I suspect it was part of an arrangement between them. I'm just glad he kept his word. You never know with him."

"I suppose that I'm being a little too subtle, lad."

"I guess so. What am I missing?"

"You know I'm not one for spreading gossip or innuendo, Lee."

"Yes, sir, I know."

"Johnson's duplicitousness may run deeper than you know, kind of an ingrained way of life for him. I don't say this in a judgmental way, Lee."

"Understood. I'm all ears."

"There are those who've speculated through the years that Johnson was in the closet."

Lee's head snapped. "I - uh - I never thought it."

"He never remarried. Never dated again as far as anyone could tell."

"He wouldn't be the first guy accused of being married to his work. It doesn't mean anything about his sexual preferences."

"Lee, I guess I'd just better spit this out. I made some calls after I saw this. The rumor is that Johnson has AIDS, that he retired to avoid a scandal and minimize fallout."

"I don't see it. If that was the case, why would he marry Rachael?"

"I can't answer that. I can't speak to what their relationship entails. My only concern is for your welfare. If she put you at risk . . . ."

Lee knocked back a swig of scotch as he processed Admiral Nelson's concerns. Lee's mind swirled with confusion. He just shook his head at his thoughts, coming to no consensus. Then he remembered Roger's letter.

"I don't think so, sir. Rachael's more the kind to take the risk herself than to expose someone else."

"Something you two share in common," Harry smiled. "Still, there are tests now. You might consider that for peace of mind."

"For the safety of the crew too, yes, sir, I have no problem doing that."

"I didn't think you would."


	40. Chapter 40 - Fallout

**Chapter 40 - Fallout**

Lee did follow through with H.I.V. testing in the next month and was scheduled to repeat the test in another six months, just to be cautious. In the interim, Roger called.

"I heard from Rachael, a quick call from Thailand. Johnson's in a private hospital there. It won't be long. She figured you'd heard by now and asked me to tell you that you had no cause to worry."

"You could have been a little more upfront with me before, Rog."

"I told you before that I never completely got her relationship with him, the nature of it. His generation worked so much harder to hide it, and honestly, once I got a hint, I never knew if he ran both ways or just one. I did kind of wonder that he protected me through the years, but then again, he also used it against me. Kept me off balance that way. In retrospect, I can see that Rachael served as window dressing for both Johnson and me. Funny that makes me feel a little jealous, that she was protecting him just like she did me."

"Try to think of Johnson as more of a father figure to her if that helps."

"That's closer to the truth than you know, buddy."

"Yeah, well, I feel relieved to get images of them that way out of my head. That was bad enough without the threat of deadly illness."

"There's a lesson there for us all, buddy. Everybody on my side of the street may not take the necessary precautions, but we know we should. Your side too."

"Lesson learned. You doing okay?"

"How much detail do you want?"

"As much as you're comfortable sharing."

"Life is good right now, real good. I met a guy. I think he's a keeper. It's something that I want to pursue and I don't want to do it in hiding, so I'm resigning my commission. I'm taking a civilian position with N.C.I.S., thanks to Saul."

"That's wonderful. Next time I come to D.C., I expect an introduction."

"How about you, Lee?"

"Same old routine."

"You might think about change too. Find a family before it's too late."

"I have an enormous family, my crew. It's enough for me."

"Liar."

"As long as I believe it, it's good."

"Okay, keep in touch. I'll let you know if I hear anything more from her."

"Not necessary. Keep me posted on you. If she wants to keep in touch with me, we can skip the intermediary."

"Fair enough."

Three months later, Lee was returning from yet another grueling six weeks at sea. Parts kept breaking, delaying the conclusion of the mission and canceling shore leave twice. Tempers flared among crewmen and even a little amongst the command staff. Even Bobby O'Brien, the most even-keeled of them all had gotten edgy. Lee was relieved to arrive home, finally escaping them all. As he entered, his phone was ringing. The machine picked up before Lee could get to the phone. "Hey, skip. It's Sharkey . . . ." Lee dropped his bag and hurried to pick it up even though he harbored dread at hearing Sharkey's voice so quickly after he'd left the Institute.

"Sorry to disturb you so soon, skipper, but not long after leaving the Institute two ratings got into a bar fight with two bubblegummers, one of whom pulled a knife. Rettig is at L.A. General and N.C.I.S. is holding Warder and the two navy twits in L.A."

"Thanks for letting me know, Chief."

"You gonna do anything about it, skipper?"

"I'll check to see how Rettig is faring and let their families know so they can get lawyers."

"Is that all?"

"They're not children, Sharkey. They were off duty."

"But sir, they were, well, they were defending the honor of the Seaview. Don't you think we owe them more than a phone call or two?"

"What do you mean - no never mind, I'll follow up." Lee saw no point arguing with Sharkey knowing Sharkey would just get more worked up. Lee called information for the N.C.I.S. phone number in Los Angeles. He was both surprised and pleased to hear Saul Jackson take his call.

"I expected that I'd hear from you or your admiral soon, Lee. How are you?"

"Fine. Tired. I just came back from a hellaciously long mission."

"So your rating said."

"How much trouble are they in?"

"Less than the other guys."

"Are you going to hold them?"

"One's still at the E.R., not too seriously injured from what I hear. The other, well, I'd prefer to release him into the custody of a mature and guiding influence such as yourself."

"Right now, I'm just a tired curmudgeon."

"I've seen you rise to the occasion. Come on down. I promise I'll make it worth your while."

"Good luck with that!" Lee snorted, knowing he'd go anyway. His crew was his family after all. "Can you give me some time for a shower and change? I literally just walked through my front door when I got word."

"Absolutely. Take your time and arrive in your dashing best. Nothing would delight me more than letting these guys sweat a little longer."

Two and a half hours later, Lee arrived at Saul's office. Saul warmly embraced Lee. "So good to see you again."

"Mind if I ask what are you doing in L.A? Johnson's revenge?"

Saul shrugged noncommittally. "It's for the best. My wife's family lives here and we're expecting. Plus this office is targeted to focus more on international threats and counterintelligence than San Diego. Less petty crime."

"You mean like the one you called me in for today?"

"Yes. Come on back. We've been waiting for you before we take Warder's official statement."

"Wouldn't waiting for a lawyer have made more sense?"

"He said he didn't need one."

Lee grumbled. "Is coffee possible?"

"Absolutely." Saul led Lee to a conference room. Around the table sat a stenographer, two disheveled naval ratings, an N.C.I.S. agent whose name tag Lee couldn't yet read, and his crewman Warder.

As Lee sat down, Saul deposited a cup of black coffee at his side. The two sailors looked at him and whispered something between each other.

"You two bubblegummers should be thrilled to know that Mr. Rettig is expected to recover. Whether your careers are likely to recover is a much more serious question," Saul chided. "Now, to proceed with statements. Mr. Warder has volunteered to go first."

"Uh, sure thing, but does the skipper really need to be here? This might be kind of awkward."

"Most assuredly he does, sailor," Saul said quickly covering his mouth with his hand to hide a grin that Lee saw.

"Well, um, we'd been out for six weeks, a long six weeks, and Rettig and I stopped at a bar to blow off some steam before we headed home. We hadn't had any shore leave at all during that time. It got cancelled twice, not that we blamed you, skipper."

Lee nodded it was all right; he understood.

"Well, we stopped at this dive just off U.S. 1. Didn't know anything about it, which was our first mistake. Anyway, we order beers and these two bubblegummers spot our Institute outfits and start cracking jokes about - sir, I really would prefer it if the skipper wasn't here."

"Just go ahead, Warder. I don't think anything you could say will bother me that much," Lee assured.

"Well, they asked us if we were together, and as I said, we were beat and didn't really get what they were getting at, and Rettig told them we'd just got back from a long mission on Seaview. Then they started with the jokes about submariners."

"What jokes, son?" Saul asked with false earnestness.

"The stupid old ones. 'It's not gay if we're underway,' right? And 'is it true that 110 men go out and 55 couples return?' Lame middle school shit."

Now it was Lee who suppressed laughter behind his hand.

"Then they started going on about the captain and the admiral."

"How so?" Saul prodded.

Lee kneed Saul under the table as Saul covered his mouth to hide his grin.

"Well, you know. Neither the skipper or the admiral are married. We, Rettig and I had heard those rumors before we were aboard, but I swear, we've never seen anything improper between 'em, not that I'm judging or anything, what happens off the boat. That sounded funny. I mean to say that I've never heard any one say that they've seen anything like that between them on or off the boat."

Lee was barely holding it together then.

"You two bubblegummers, what do you have to say for yourselves?" Saul asked.

"We were just having some good natured fun. Didn't mean anything by it. Those guys just took it too seriously. That Rettig has a nasty left hook."

"He was a Golden Glove winner in high school," Lee explained.

"Who threw the first punch?" Saul asked.

Warder was reticent to answer. The sailors quickly offered "Rettig."

"I don't care if he did throw a wicked left. Pulling a knife was a ridiculous stunt, Montreat!" Saul scolded.

"I know, sir. I overreacted when Lilburn went down with a single punch."

"Afraid you were next?" Lee jibed.

No answer.

"What do you think we should do with this lot, Captain Crane? Press charges?"

"I suppose that depends on exactly how severe Rettig's injury was."

The door had quietly slid open behind Lee during this exchange. "It was just a scratch on his arm. A couple of stitches and he's fine."

Lee whipped around at the sound of the voice, then he sprang out of his chair. "Red!"

"Commander," she smiled.

"Saul, do you mind if we step out a minute?"

Saul smiled broadly. "Not at all, commander. Please do."

The occupants of the room sat silently waiting for the return of Captain Crane. All eyes except Saul's were staring out the window moments later. Saul swung his chair around a little to see what everyone was watching.

"Well, gentlemen, and I use that term loosely, I think you can put a certain rumor to bed, not that the truth or falsity of it was ever any of your business and it certainly was no excuse for a fight!" Saul then tapped on the desk impatiently. Lee and Rachael were clenched together, some serious tongue kissing underway. Saul went to the door. "May I remind you, Special Agent MacAdam, this is a place of business." Rachael and Lee broke off kissing but continued talking outside.

"Hey, I'll pitch in for getting them a hotel room," one of the sailors joked.

"You keep your mouth shut. That should be lesson number one you take away from today. The second is never be so stupid as to pull a weapon when you can walk away! Now, subject to the recommendations of those two, you'll either be doing time in the brig or just getting a write up."

Lee and Rachael entered the room.

"Do I hold them or spring them?"

"Spring them," both said.

"You two dumb shits better appreciate what just happened. Think twice before you open your big mouths or go judging anyone. Get them out of my sight," Saul directed his other agent. "You can go too, Warder. I'll let your captain deal with you, although I have a feeling he's lost interest."

"Go home, sailor. Stay out of trouble until you report back or don't report back. Got it?"

"Yes, sir, captain. Thank you, sir."

"Tell Rettig the same for me."

Saul, Lee and Rachael were left alone in the conference room. "I suppose some explanations are in order," Saul said.

"No, that's all right," Lee said.

"Well, I had been thinking of giving Rachael the rest of the day off, but if it's not necessary . . . "

"She'll take it," Lee volunteered quickly.

"All right. I'm leaving. I'll see you in morning, Rachael."


	41. Chapter 41 - Reunions

**Chapter 41 - Reunions**

"Would you like to have this conversation someplace less official?" Rachael asked.

Lee nodded.

"Come on. I'll show you my new digs. Don't expect much. I just got here last week."

"I guess I can overlook you not calling me in that time."

"I did. You were at sea."

"You could have left a message."

"You want to catch up this way? What I didn't do?"

"Sorry, I'm worn a little thin."

"I'll say. What say we pick up some food on the way?"

"White pizza?"

"I don't know where to find one in L.A. yet."

Lee smiled. "I do."

They took the pie back to a minimally furnished apartment in West Hollywood. "Hola, Carolina, estoy aqui!"

A woman came out of hallway and spoke rapid fire Spanish to Rachael before leaving. "Come on, Lee, come see him."

Lee looked at the baby sleeping the in crib. "He's beautiful. What's his name?"

"Roberto Roger Lee MacAdam Johnson."

"I'm only third in the list?"

"Hey, I'm fourth and you're the only one in the list I ever slept with."

"Distinction enough, I suppose." Lee leaned down to kiss Rachael's head.

"Let's take this out of here, so we don't wake him. Carolina just got him down a few minutes ago."

It was only a few minutes until Lee and Rachael were down too, on her bed. Lee went to reach for his wallet before they continued.

"I don't mind, Lee, but I'm clean. After Kuwait, well, I was tested a few times. There's only been you since."

"That whole history about you and Johnson that you gave me the day you disappeared, it was bull, just a set up for your leaving, right?"

"Yes. Johnson was keeping tabs on Saul's investigations. He knew I was about to be exonerated. I had orders to pull out after it happened and orders what to tell you. It was in all our best interests."

"You mean considering that Johnson was basically blackmailing all of us?"

"He suffered more than his share, Lee. You're a big enough man to forgive him."

Lee nodded. "I suppose, but I've got some crewmen who bore my grumpiness for a few weeks after you disappeared who might not be so generous." Lee set his wallet aside and resumed kissing Rachael before moving on to other things. Afterwards, he fell asleep.

Lee awoke slightly disoriented until he processed the sounds of a baby gurgling outside the room. Lee pulled on his pants and his undershirt before he headed out to the living room. He watched Rachael and the baby from the hallway. A smile erupted on Lee's face. "This is good. Care to introduce us now that we're both awake?"

"Certainly! Roberto, this is your Uncle Lee. From him you can learn to be a fine, upstanding gentleman. You can trust him with your life."

"Roberto, it is my pleasure to meet you. I can only hope to live up to your mother's description should you allow me to be a part of your life."

"You know he doesn't get any of this, Lee?"

"I know. It's just our way of having that uncomfortable discussion that neither of us really wants to have."

"I don't have any expectations of you, Lee. You should know that. I mean, I would like for Roberto to have some strong male role models in his life, like Roger and Saul, and you, if you're game."

"It would be my pleasure. About us, however, would you consider that maybe I want you to have some expectations? That maybe I might want you to?"

"What kind of expectations?"

"Regular calls, visits, dates?"

"You can't do that, I know."

"I can try at least, that is if you're willing to work with me some."

"I might call this many things, Lee, but work, no."

"I mean I can see something more down the line potentially. We can play it by ear, but I could see you as part of my other extended family."

"Then you should know your Admiral Nelson was checking me out the last time we met."

"That's how you know he's a genius. This job, how important is it to you?"

"Very. How many civilian jobs do you think call for my talents? The pay is decent too."

"Johnson didn't leave his money to you?"

"I didn't marry Johnson for the money. We kind of blew through most of what he had by the end, between the trip around the world and the private hospitals."

"He didn't deserve you."

"Yeah, like I came without baggage!"

"He used and manipulated you, just like the rest of us."

"Welcome to the world of intelligence. It didn't bother me like it bothers you. I'm not wired that rigidly. Maybe that's why you could only be a part-timer."

"Maybe. I need time to get over my anger between assignments."

"Johnson wasn't a bad man, Lee. He had his reasons. I didn't like them all, but I respected his judgment. He was like a father to me from the day I came on board. We had a special connection."

"You knew he was gay from the beginning, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"My father was. I recognized the tells, the covers."

"Your father is dead, isn't he?"

"Long ago. He couldn't stand living a lie anymore and wanted out of the marriage. My mother tried desperately to hold on to the charade. She threatened to ruin him if he left. His suicide didn't leave much room for that. I hated her for years for pushing him to it. I almost skipped her funeral."

"Did she know when they married?"

"Yes, but she convinced herself that she could change him. He warned her. He gave her everything they'd bargained for, but it wasn't enough for her."

"Sounds a little reminiscent of things attributed to Melanie."

"No need for me to further blaspheme the dead, Lee. Her parents didn't deserve what happened."

"Nor did she."

"I concede already. You're right."

"I didn't expect you to be so malleable to my will. Maybe we could find you a job closer to Santa Barbara?"

"Nice try, but no."

"It's going to make it harder for us."

"We'll figure out if it's worth it soon enough. Hey, do you know how to change a diaper?" Rachael didn't wait for a response, but thrust Roberto into Lee's arms.

"That could be one advantage of being at sea!" Lee said as he went off into the nursery to do the deed. Afterward, Lee helped feed Roberto, played with him and tried to put him down for a nap. The last part didn't go so well.

"I'm still practicing this part, too," Rachael admitted. "He likes singing and rocking until he's out, but when you put him in the crib he often startles awake."

"I suppose letting him cry it out is not acceptable?"

"Could you?"

"No." Lee rocked him a while longer, humming, and then set him down so gently that he never noticed the transition.

"You're hired."

"Let's discuss my salary."

"All the pizza you can eat."

"That's not enough. Sweeten the pot." Lee's lips showed how he wanted that to happen. Rachael was happy enough to comply.


	42. Chapter 42 - Epilogue

**Chapter 42 - Epilogue**

Lee returned to Santa Barbara the next day. He headed to the Institute to deal with some paperwork before he intended to return to L.A. for a few days. Admiral Nelson caught him before he could leave.

"Lunch, Lee?"

Lee looked at his watch. "Sure, if it's not a real long one."

They walked to the cafeteria. "Planning on using some of your leave for a change instead of working right through it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I hope you've got something fun lined up."

Lee smiled, but didn't share. They settled into a private dining room and gave their orders to a waiter.

"Lee, I want you to know that after long and difficult consideration, I have decided to pursue financing for a sister sub to Seaview to be based in the Atlantic. She'll be significantly smaller and carry only minimal defensive weapons. She'll be faster and more maneuverable than the Seaview."

"I know it's a tedious process, sir, but I'm glad to hear it."

"I've been working on it since that last Atlantic cruise. I did listen to you, even if I didn't like the message."

"What about it troubles you so?"

"Besides the hassle of making it happen? The implications for the crew. Change, lad. I like things the way they are. I have a great comfort level with you and Chip both here. I know that I can't uproot Chip's family to the East, so I rather assumed you would go. I'm not sure I'm ready for that."

"It wasn't about me personally, admiral. Frankly, I never thought through those sorts of details."

"Now you'll have to."

"O'Brien is more than ready and capable to captain his own ship."

"That's a relief to me," the admiral smiled.

"Well, a few months ago, I might have given you a different answer."

"I've noticed changes in you. Care to let me in on them?"

"That whole incident with Roger and Rachael put my mind in a new place. Well, not exactly a new place, but it highlighted the fact that I've become a little more isolated than I'm comfortable with."

"There's nothing wrong with craving a family, Lee."

"Only how to make it work doing this job."

"That's the challenge for certain. If and when you want to take a stab at it, maybe we can get creative. You may have to give up some control, however."

"I know. I don't want to overwhelm Chip, though."

"You can't have it all is what they say. Everyone compromises to get the things they want. For instance, I'd be willing to have you as a half-time captain rather than not at all."

"Half-time? How could we work that?"

"You and Chip essentially share the load now. Let's say that as we get the Atlantic project off the ground, we alternate trips some giving you and Chip both more time off. We give O'Brien more opportunity to lead, groom two new execs, one for each coast, and then by the time the Atlantic project is operating, you and Chip should be able to regularly alternate trips. The devil will be in the details, but I'm sure that we can work it out. When you're interested, that is."

"Rachael's back. She's living in Los Angeles, working for N.C.I.S.. I just found out yesterday. I saw her. I'm heading back there for a few days."

"I guess we'll be working on those details soon, then. I'm glad for you. She's very self-sufficient. I think that bodes well for maintaining a relationship in your current circumstances."

"Why do I feel like I just got my father's approval?"

With a twinkle in his brilliant blue eyes, Harriman Nelson unleashed a broad smile and a wink to answer to Lee's question.

The End


End file.

Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, Drama, Romance