Leo's Legacy

Erin B.

Disclaimer: FX: The Series is owned by Winterset Productions, Fireworks Productions, Rysher Entertainment and Hallmark Entertainment. I work for none of these companies, which would probably explain why I'm not making any money out of this! Enjoy the story...

#302 LEO'S LEGACY

Chapter 1.

Rollie climbed out of his red pick up truck, two cans of beer in one hand and some flowers in the other. He walked up the slight slope towards the grave of his best mate, and looked up just as he was almost there. He noticed a young woman standing by the stone and paused, he didn't really want to meet any new people today. Despite the continuing cold weather, he just wanted to suck a couple of beers with an old mate, other people were not on the agenda.

The young woman noticed him, "Oh, sorry. I'll go..."

Rollie went to stop her, "No, you don't have to leave just cause I arrived."

She paused, and dashed away a tear that formed like a diamond in the corner of one of her  emerald eyes. "Ok, thanks." She turned back to the stone, and Rollie stepped up so he was standing beside her. He observed her in her silence, there was something familiar about her... She looked to be around Angie's age and height, in her early to mid 20s standing at a slender 5'5". She had dark brown wavy hair that was loose - hanging down to just below her shoulders with short bangs that framed her face. She was dressed casually - a dark green winter weight coat (reflecting the intriguing colour of her eyes), black scarf and gloves, tidy blue black jeans and hiking boots.

"I'm Rollie Tyler. Leo was a good mate of mine."

"Michelle Dobson, most people call me Mitch."

Rollie decided to make conversation, he wanted to figure out why she looked so familiar. "So, umm, Mitch, how did you know Leo?"

"I didn't," she paused, glancing up she noticed the question in Rollie's face...
 

Chapter 2

"He was my father."

Rollie stared down at the young woman in shock. Leo never said anything to him EVER about being a father. He had a tendency not to believe her if it wasn't for the distinct familiarity about her - he had noticed it before they had even spoke. He couldn't pick any particular feature about her that reminded him of his friend but there was something, some kind of aura maybe, or just a general likeness that was obviously genetic. He said the first thing that came to mind that made at least vague sense. "Wanna beer?" and he held up the two cans of beer that were in his hand.

She chuckled, finding his question funny but feeling too sad to really laugh. The situation was absurd to her, here she was standing at the grave of her dead father, a man she had never met, talking to another man she had never met who apparently had been friends with her father. And he wanted to have a beer while standing in front of the gravestone in the freezing cold. She decided she had nothing to lose and accepted the can of beer from this strange dark haired man.

They popped the cans and drank silently for a few minutes before she spoke. "So, you were friends with my father?"

"Yeah, yeah I was. Did he know about you? I mean, he never told me about you and we were pretty much best mates."

She replied with venom in her voice, "My bastard stepfather told me he did, and that he wanted nothing to do with me, or my mother. I don't know who to hate more - Leo McCarthy here," she gestured towards the stone with her can and finished sarcastically. "...or my stepfather."

Rollie was starting to get confused again, "What's wrong with your stepfather?"

"He's this businessman, and a total creep."

The FX artist started treading on thin ground, "Look... Umm... from what I know about Leo, shutting you out doesn't sound like his style. Have you talked to your mother about it?"

"I can't, she's dead." Michelle slowly turned then and walked back towards her car, a small Honda civic. It was parked in front of Rollie's truck.

Rollie watched her turn and walk away. He placed the flowers at the base of the stone, remarking to it, "Well mate, you still know how to pull them out of the hat. Just what do you have in mind?" He saluted the stone with his can, not expecting a response to his question and turned to follow the miserable young woman, pausing only to throw his half empty can in the trash can halfway down the path.

Nate Wilson looked up as his new partner entered the precinct. He grinned at the attractive young woman "Hey, Mitch! Ready for some action?"

A sense of adventure shone through the sadness in the emerald eyes as the young woman put on a brave face. 'Hi Nate - you betcha. What's on the agenda for today?"

Just as her partner was about to answer their Captain called out from across the room. "Dobson, Wilson! Get your butts moving. I want you with Gatti and Sanchez." The two officers grabbed their coats and hats before running to catch up with the two rapidly departing detectives.

Angie commented to the actor walking past her, "Great job Harry - that flip worked just how we had planned."

"Thanks Ange, it was easy once you explained it. But these ears are driving me to distraction," replied the 4 foot tall elf.

The FX artist grinned, "Better you than me. See ya later Harry." She walked over to where Rollie was standing. "Rollie - we got the fairy scene tomorrow, have you got that handheld blower to produce stable..." She frowned as she realised her boss was paying absolutely no attention to her, "Rollie? Rollie! EARTH TO TYLER!!!"

The yelling finally got through and brought Rollie back from Tyler-land, "Wha' Oh, sorry Angie, I was just thinking."

"Yeah - I can see that Rollie. What's going on? I haven't see you this out of it since last time Mangela was here." She grinned at his absent-mindedness.

"You don't want to know."

Angie wasn't about to take 'no' for an answer, "Rollie - if it's gonna make you this distracted when we're working then I wanna know."

"I met someone this morning, a young woman. Now I can't get her out of my head."

Rollie was so absorbed in his own little world he didn't notice a deep frown flash across his assistant's face. "Oh. Who was she?" He didn't answer again, Angie clicked her fingers in front of his face. "Rol. Who was she?"

"Oh! Sorry, I'm not with it. Umm, who was she... Well, she's says that Leo was her father."

Angie folded her arms across her chest, clearly not believing him, "You're joking right? He didn't have any kids did he?"

"I'm not kidding - and he didn't have kids as far as I know anyway. I met her at the cemetery and we went and had coffee. She said her mother got together with some other guy soon after or something." replied Rollie, as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Maybe Leo didn't know?"

The Australian frowned, "She said he did. I gotta think about this..." He walked off leaving Angie staring bemusedly after him.

Detective Francis Gatti was staring down at the body when Officer Michelle Dobson walked up beside him, "Sir? Detective Sanchez wants to... Oh my God!" The police officer stopped as she first sighted the body.

The detective looked at the young woman, she had gone several shades paler, "Dobson - what is it? You know this person?"

Michelle swallowed hard, "Umm, yeah. Yeah, I do. He's a business partner of my stepfather."

Francis frowned, "Well, I think we need to have a chat to your stepfather. This is no mugging, this guys been hit. Big time." He looked up Michelle, she had a worried expression on her face.
 

Chapter 3

Officers Wilson and Dobson were back at their desks at the end of the day, working through a pile of paperwork. Michelle was getting bored with it and turned to talk to her partner. "Hey Nate. I gotta question."

"Yeah. What is it Mitch?"

"Did you know a Detective Leo McCarthy?"

"McCarthy? Yeah - he was posted here for, well, I dunno… A long time before I started anyway. He died about 8 months ago now I think, killed in the line of duty - his picture is on the wall down the corridor. He was a good cop. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason. Just curious really, I'd heard the name." She made an effort to look a little uninterested.

"Gatti was his partner - talk to him if you wanna know more. They had a good friend too - he does movies I think. He helped out on a few cases, still does, got buddy buddy with Sanchez after she investigated McCarthy's murder. Tyler's his name."

"Thanks - I might talk to Gatti then." She smiled as she turned back to her desk. If there was one thing she knew for certain about Nate Wilson, it was the fact that he always told you more than you usually wanted to know. This time around - the experienced officer's answer was perfect.

A call from across the room interrupted her musings, "Dobson! Got a minute?" Michelle stood and walked quickly over to Detective Francis Gatti's desk, "Thanks Officer, take a seat."

"Sure. What did you want, Sir?"

"A few questions... You said your stepfather's name was Roger Douglas? Of Douglas Finance right?

"Yeah, that's right Sir."

"Did you know he's as bent as your partner's hair?"

Michelle looked over at her curly haired partner. "No Sir, I didn't. I mean he was always a bastard but I wasn't aware that he was doing anything illegal."

Francis was all business and moved on, "Bradshaw - what was your impression of him?"

"Nice, I liked him. He always seemed more of a gentle grandfather figure than a finance associate. If I had to hazard a guess as to why he's dead, and based on what you've just told me I'd say he found out there was something fishy going on and got killed for it.

"So you don't think he was in on whatever is going on?"

Michelle shook her head, "Nope, it's possible but I doubt it."

"You don't get on with your stepfather?"

The young woman smiled ruefully, "Let's just say he sent me to a very exclusive all year round boarding school, and it wasn't cause he was interested in ensuring I had a good education."

"And you wanted to become a cop?" Francis asked incredulously, rich girls didn't tend to want to become police officers.

"Yeah well, my real father was a cop." Michelle shut her mouth quickly, furious at herself for letting that slip. She mentally crossed her fingers, hoping the detective didn't ask who her father was, she really didn't want to tell him the truth yet.

"Followed in his footsteps, aye?" The detective smiled.

She sighed in relief, "Yeah, something like that."

"So what happened to him anyway?"

Luckily for Michelle, Francis was writing something in his notebook and didn't notice the panicked look that crossed her features before she answered, "He's dead, Sir." She justified it in her mind by not committing herself verbally as to when he died, Detective Gatti didn't need to know he only died 8 months ago instead of over 20 years ago. She just wished her mother had told her his name when she was alive instead of leaving a letter for her in her Will.

The FX van pulled into it's parking space inside the loft. Angela Ramirez hopped out, followed more slowly by her boss, Rollie Tyler. Angie strode over to the computer to check their email and continued the conversation with Rollie as she waited for the computer to give her some answers, "Rol, you gotta figure out what you want to do about this woman claiming to be Leo's daughter. I mean, until you get it sorted out - you're gonna be an absolute pain to work with."

The FX specialist looked over at his assistant, an unamused expression on his face, "Thanks for the concern Ange."

"I'm serious Rollie, you were mega distracted this afternoon." She folded her arms, defending her stand on the issue.

"Yeah well, maybe sleeping on it will sort it out." He headed up the stairs to his bedroom, clearly dismissing her and well aware of the fact she wouldn't follow him up there.

Roger Douglas was seated in front of an open fire reading a voluminous book when he heard the front door of his expansive home slam shut. He continued reading as he heard heavy footsteps winding their way from the front door down to the study where he was sitting. A young woman entered, the door slamming behind her, and Roger calmly put the bookmark in the page he was up to, shut the book and placed on the side table next to his chair.

"Roger!! What the hell is going on?" Michelle Dobson stood in the middle of the room, her hands on her hips, and her eyes flashing angrily.

The 50 year old businessman slowly got out of his chair, and walked over to the sideboard to pour himself a whisky. "Well, if it isn't my darling daughter. It's so nice to see you again, you haven't been over in ages. How is the new job going?"

"Cut the Crap. You haven't treated me like daughter for as long as I can remember, and especially since Mom died. Now I want some answers." She jabbed the air with her finger, emphasising her point.

"Well, Michelle. It would help me a great deal if I knew what you were talking about." He took a swig of the drink and turned to face her.

"Philip Bradshaw is what I'm talking about. He's dead - as if you didn't know. Pro-hit. Now tell me what is going on."

Roger remained infuriatingly calm, "Oh yes. I heard that on the news. It will cause us some long term difficulties I'm afraid. Your inheritance might not be as large as you might have hoped." He walked back over to his chair, sat down and smiled up at her.

"Like Hell. You'd be more likely to leave all this to one of the kitchen maids than to me you impotent bastard. I will get to the bottom of this - you can count on it." And with that last shot Michelle Dobson turned on her heel and stormed out slamming both doors on the way.

He was standing at the bar in Brennans, waiting. For what his mind asked... For Leo it replied. The logical part of his brain told him Leo was dead, but the rest of his mind ignored the reminder as he stared into his beer.

Moments later the door of the bar opened and in walked Leo McCarthy. He was dressed in a suit, looking a little crumpled as he always did at the end of a hard day getting the better of criminals. He gestured to the bartender to get him a beer and pulled up a stool next to Rollie.

Rollie glanced up at his friend, his face a question. How can you be here? You're dead. He realised that he must have been dreaming, but rather than making an effort to wake up he waited, waited to see where this would go. And what would happen.

Leo spoke first, "Hey Pal. It's been a while. How have you been?"

"Busy. Leo, what are you doing here?"

"I need your help Rollie. One last time, I need your help," he paused and took Rollie's silence as approval. "I've never told you this before... I have a daughter, she's about Angie's age. I've never seen her... tried to, just after she was born. Her mother had a new man by then and he stopped it, told me that he was her father now and I should just forget she ever existed. Anyway, the proof she needs now is in a shoebox amongst the stuff you kept. The thing is Rollie, my daughter has no-one now. Her mother is gone, she's alienated her stepfather, and now that she needs me I can't be there for her. She needs someone, a friend. Please Rollie, for me, be her friend."

Leo drained his beer, got up and walked straight out of the bar again without waiting for an answer.

Rollie woke with a start... Now he knew what his next step should be.
 

Chapter 4
 

10 minutes later Rollie was covered in about eight month's worth of dust and cobwebs. After Leo had died they had all packed up his belongings, selling the furniture and clothes but keeping the personal effects. Rollie had told himself that he would go through them soon, picking out the stuff worth keeping and throwing out the rest but he had never gotten around to it, soon had never come. Until now.

It didn't take him long to find it, an old shoe box - Michelle's name had been written on the outside of the box, but no indication had been given about her relationship to Leo. Rollie decided not to open it, after all it was not addressed to him. After tidying up again and leaving the box of letters on the workbench he returned to bed, satisfied.

Michelle stood nervously at the door of the loft, Rollie had called her and asked her to come over but he was really vague as to why. The door opened, a young blonde haired woman stood there, "Can I help you?"

"Umm, yeah. I'm looking for Rollie Tyler."

"Oh sure. Come on in." The door was opened wider and Michelle entered, she looked bewildered at the array of masks, computer gear, models and gadgets that lined every available space in the voluminous room. "You must be Michelle. I'm Angie - I work with Rollie."

The brunette eyed the blonde carefully, she seemed friendly enough but Michelle sensed some sort of hostility there. She decided to figure it all out later, and was friendly in return. "Call me Mitch. It's nice to meet you Angie. Is Rollie around?"

A voice echoed from behind a werewolf (of all things!?!), "I'm right here Mitch. Make yourself at home, I'll be with you in a minute."

Angie offered Michelle some tea and they sat in the lounge in awkward silence until Rollie showed up with a shoebox. He gave it to Michelle. "What's this"

"Dunno, it's addressed to you," replied Rollie.

"To me?!?" said Michelle

"Yeah. I remembered I had it last night. I've got a few boxes of Leo's personal effects - he had no family (other than you of course) so we decided to keep the stuff here for now and deal with it sooner or later."

"Oh Ok. Thanks." The young woman opened the box. It was full of letters, over 20 in all. Each had been dated, signed and were addressed "To my daughter". They were all written within a week of her birthday each year. She flicked through until she found the earliest one and was about to open its envelope when the front door of the loft blew open.

Detectives Francis Gatti and Mira Sanchez entered. "Hey Rollie."

Frank, Mira. Good to see you. Care for a cuppa?" The FX artist held up the cup of tea his assistant had carefully made for him.

"That'd be great thanks Rol," replied Francis. Rollie shot Angie a hopeful look, it was replied with a vaguely hostile one before she got to her feet.

Mira noticed Michelle first, "Officer Dobson, what are you doing here?"

Rollie looked at her blankly for a moment, "Officer!?!"

The young police officer blushed, "Yeah - I'm a cop."

The Australian rolled his eyes, "Oh great." He looked at her sharply, "Have you told them?"

Michelle's reply was short and gave no option of argument, "No."

Rollie argued anyway, "Mitch - they deserve to know. Especially Francis."

"Give me a break Rollie - I only worked out all the connections myself recently when I saw his picture down at the precinct."

Francis interjected, "Rollie, what's going on here?"

The FX artist's voice was low in warning, "Michelle - tell them. Or I will."

"Ok, ok. Detective Gatti - you remember I told you my real father was a cop."

"Yeah - go on." replied Francis, slowly. He was starting to put the pieces together and he didn't like the picture it was making.

"He was Leo McCarthy." Michelle looked at the floor nervously waiting for the explosion that she was sure would follow her remark.

Mira folded her arms, intrigued. She'd never met Leo but she had a pretty good idea of the likely affect of this news on her friends. She looked across at Angie, who was looking decidedly sour about the whole thing.

Rollie had been holding his breath during the final exchange between Michelle and Francis, now she had blurted out the news he let it out slowly. Francis looked like he had been hit head on by a semi. He stood there stunned for a moment before looking the young woman in the eye, "You're lying."

Michelle met his gaze, "No I'm not."

There was no explosion, just a glint of ice cold fire burning angrily behind the dark eyes as the young detective quietly defended his deceased friend, "Yes. Yes, you are. I don't know why you're trying to ruin the reputation of a good cop but I WILL have you up on charges if you don't stop."

The young woman leapt to her feet, incensed at the accusation. "You don't believe me? Fine. Believe what you like. I am NOT lying and I won't put up with this crap. Check my birth certificate or my file - it's all in there. Or better yet take a flying leap DE-TEC-TIVE!!!" She finished her tirade inches from his face, shouting. Grabbing her coat from the back of the sofa she stormed out of the loft slamming the door behind her.

All four friends stood there in stunned silence for a moment before Mira broke the silence. She fanned her face, "That's one chica with a temper."

"You're not kidding," muttered Angie in reply.

Francis starred into space, trying to reconcile this new news about his friend with what he remembered of him. Rollie was looking down at the floor, he spoke quietly, "She was telling the truth Francis."

Michelle Dobson stomped down the street back towards her own apartment. She was pissed off, not only had she alienated a couple of the best detective in the department but she had left the box of letters behind. She liked Gatti, he was a really good cop, and her only opportunity at really finding out about her father. If only he could get his head out of the damn sand. She kicked at the odd snowdrift, taking her anger out on inanimate objects. Suddenly a set of hands stopped her in her tracks. "Well, for goodness sake. It's little Mitch Dobson."

The young woman gasped in surprise before she looked up and recognised the elderly financial associate standing in front of her. "Richard Blackmore! How are you?"

He frowned before smiling genteelly again, "Oh been better my dear. You heard about Philip Bradshaw I take?"

"Yes I did. He'll be a big loss to the firm."

"Yes, well… Enough of that, what are you up to these days young lady?"

"I'm a police officer." She grinned indulgently. Richard Blackmore was another of these elderly grandfather type figures, she knew his response before he even said it so she mouthed it with him.

"Well, for goodness sake. I can imagine your father would not have been too happy about that career choice. Oh, you impertinent young thing." He chuckled as noticed her mouthing his words and she smiled at him.

"Yeah, well, old Roger was never too impressed with anything I did…" Michelle paused as she got an idea, "Richard, do you think you could do me a little favour?"

"Of course I can. What do you need my dear?"

"This could get you into trouble with Roger - a lot of trouble."

"Ask away - all he can do is fire me, and as I am already practically retired I don't think that's going to worry me too much."

The young woman frowned, thinking of much more dire consequences if Richard was caught doing what she wanted him to. "I was hoping you could do a little snooping for me down at Douglas Finance. I'm helping on the investigation into Philip's murder and I think it's related to something going on down there."

The elderly gentleman grew serious as he too realised the possible dire consequences of her request. "That is a hard one isn't it." He smiled bravely at her, "Of course I will have a look around. We can't have Douglas Finance dragged through the mud now can we. Much better if we sort it all out before that. Well, I best be getting going young Miss. I believe I have a meeting with the shareholders in a few minutes."

Michelle smiled at her friend, "Thank you Richard. If you do find anything - I'm at the Mid-town South Precinct." She patted him on the shoulder as he hobbled past her and she watched him as he continued slowly down the street. What she didn't notice was a man standing in the shadows of an alley, a man that had watched and listened to the entire exchange between the young woman and the elderly gentleman. And as she turned and headed towards home the man slipped out of the shadows, following.

Michelle Dobson unlocked her apartment door and slipped inside. She headed for her bathroom, wanting to take a quick shower before she headed off again for the shift that would begin in little over an hour.

As the young officer left her bathroom again after her shower she was dressed in a sleeveless t-shirt and her uniform pants. She just had to add her uniform shirt and jacket and she would be ready to go. She walked into her bedroom, and from behind the door a hand snaked out and covered her nose and mouth with a chloroform soaked mask. She braced against the pressure, fighting her assailant before her knees buckled and she crumpled to the floor unconscious.
 

Chapter 5

Richard Blackmore hobbled through the office and lined up in front of Vicky Harrison's desk, she was Roger Douglas' personal secretary. The buxom redhead smiled up at the elderly man. "Mr Blackmore - what can I do for you today?"

The shrewd businessman smiled innocently at the young woman, "I was hoping you could show me Mr Douglas' list of current clients? The ones he's handling on his own."

Vicky smiled again, in a motherly fashion, "Why of course Mr Blackmore, I'll print them out for you just like I did for Mr Bradshaw the other day." Richard's smile faded as he recognised the connection immediately and he wondered if he was taking the right course of action.

The young secretary handed over the pages a few moments later and then put her hand to the phone as she watched the old man hobble away again.

Richard settled himself down with the pile of printouts, his eyes grew wide as he looked over the list of accounts, it was not possible. He reached into his pocket, grabbing his container of heart medication pills and downing one quickly as he felt his heart rate quicken. He couldn't understand how a respectable firm such as theirs could be involved in this much criminal activity. He quickly reached for a highlighter pen, and marked some of the more significant sections. He then carefully folded the pages, and after calling for a courier, fitted them into an envelope and addressed to it Michelle Dobson, c/- NYPD - Midtown South Precinct.

The two detectives and the two special effects experts sat in the loft lounge drinking tea and absorbed in their own thoughts. Francis finally broke the silence, "I just don't get it. Why didn't he tell us he had a daughter?"

Rollie swirled the tea leaves around in his cup, staring into them. "I don't know Francis. Maybe he kept it a secret so long he didn't feel he could ever tell anyone. I guess we'll never know." The Australian sat up, inhaling deeply, "The point is he does have a daughter and we now know. The question is what are we going to do about it? I think she needs us, she needs to know about Leo if nothing else."

The blonde FX artist piped up aggressively from her spot on the sofa, "Why Rollie? What does she need us for?"

Brown eyes locked into blue ones angrily. Rollie stood, his voice low, warning his friend not to push her luck. "Because Leo was my best friend. He can't be there when his daughter needs him, so someone has to be."

Angie leapt to her feet, fit for a fight. "ROLLIE! LEO IS DEAD! Your obligation to him ended when you put his murderers away! It stopped there! You said yourself Leo never met her, you owe her NOTHING!"

The Australian roared in response, "NO! That's where you're wrong Angela! An obligation to a friend never ends! NEVER!! Michelle is just like you, her mother is dead and her stepfather sure as hell isn't there for her! You of all people should know better! If my obligation to your father, Manny Ramirez, ended with his death..." He paused taking a deep breath, his anger unabated but his voice dropping from the roar to a seething tone. "If it ended with Manny's death you'd be working your way through college, up to your ears in debt and completely alone!! No Tyler FX partnership, no nothing..."

The young woman stood there completely stunned and trembling as her boss and best friend retrieved his jacket from the back of couch before shooting her one last baleful look and walked out the door. The two detectives looked at each other urgently before Francis grabbed the box of letters off the table and followed his friend out the door.

After handing the envelope over to a courier personally Richard Blackmore started walking back home. His thoughts were in turmoil, and he didn't notice a young man step onto the footpath in front of him until the glare off the blade in the young man's hands flashed in his eyes.

The elderly man looked up at the young man holding the knife, his heart rate skyrocketed as the mugger began making threatening moves. The wrinkled hand that headed to a pocket for the container of heart medication was quickly slapped away...

Mira Sanchez looked over at the FX artist after hearing the door shut behind her partner, "Is that the green eyed monster I see there Angie?"

The young woman was still distracted and in shock, she had never seen Rollie that angry with her before, "What?"

"The green eyed monster. You're jealous."

Angie got a puzzled look, "Of what?"

Mira shrugged, "Leo. Michelle. The fact that they are at the forefront of Rollie's mind instead of you."

Tears shone in Angie's eyes as she recognised the truth of the detective's words, but still she denied it, "No..."

"Come on Angie. Francis told me a while back it wasn't always rosy between you and Leo."

Angie sunk into the couch next to her friend, her face in her hands. "You're right. I couldn't compete with Leo then, and now he's wrapped in a younger female package I still can't."

Mira put a hand on the FX artist's shoulder, "You don't have to. Rollie will always be there for you, you just need to realise that in his mind he needs to be there for everyone else as well."

The younger woman sighed, "Thanks Mira. I'll try and remember that." She smiled wryly, "Now, what the hell do I say to Rollie next time I see him?"

Michelle Dobson was half-conscious as two of her stepfather's heavies dragged her into a guest bedroom of the house she once called home. She stood, clearing her head as she watched her stepfather enter the room, followed by his head security guard Dennis (the menace as she thought of him). The young woman stared at her stepfather and feeling brave she smiled cheerily, the expression did not reach her eyes. "So Roger, gonna let me in on your little plan here?"

The middle aged man circled the young woman like a vulture, "Patience my dear. You'll find out in time."

"Uh-huh. Look Roger - we both know you didn't get your boys to drag me down here for a dinner invitation so why don't you cut the crap and get on with it." She folded her arms defensively, staring at him as he circled.

Roger stopped in front of his stepdaughter, his voice low and threatening, "Don't push me Michelle." He stepped away from her and continued his set path around her. "I have a proposal for you. You see, you have a certain irritating quality - tenacity. And that's a..."

She interrupted him, muttering "Huh, must be genetic." Roger was just in front of her, his back turned to her as she said it. He spun on the spot, back-handing her across the face, hard. She kept her feet planted but the force of the strike spun her head and upper body to the side. The young woman turned back to face her nemesis slowly, she licked the split in her lip and an expression of pure hate drowned out any flash of fear that might have passed over her features.

Roger was unmoved by her expression of malice, and stood facing her. "I'll cut to the chase. I want to know what the police know, and then I want you out of the country. Permanently."

She spoke slowly, with hate. "In your dreams buddy."

He began circling again, and smiled evilly. "Oh, and by the way, isn't it a shame about Richard Blackmore. Old men have such weak hearts..."

Michelle Dobson leaped forward at her stepfather, "You son of a bitch..." The two heavies dragged her struggling form back and held her still.

Roger laughed in her face, "That temper of yours could get you killed one day, could be sooner than you think... Think about my offer." His face grew serious as he turned to Dennis, he looked him in the eye and nodded significantly.

The wealth man turned and walked quickly from the guest room, Dennis shut the door behind him. The hired thug turned to Michelle and smiled, "Your Daddy wants me to give you a present." He flexed his knuckles.

A young blonde haired maid walked quickly down a hallway, she flinched as she heard screams of agony coming from one of the locked guest bedrooms...
 

Chapter 6

Rollie Tyler, special effects expert and extremely pissed off Australian, was climbing into his truck when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Francis Gatti looked up at his friend, "You're not driving in that sort of mood Rollie. Come on, get in my car."

Rollie paused, he was going to argue, storm off on his own but then he thought about it for a moment - how can you sound off, get something off your chest if there isn't anyone there to listen. He acquiesced and took the passenger seat of the unmarked squad car.

Francis drove for about 5 minutes before he glanced over at the over-steamed Australian, "So, Rol... Howz the temper?"

"Cooling, slowly. I can't believe Angie took such a bloody cheap shot." Rollie was starting to get steamed up again.

"Tell me about it Rollie. I think she's still hurting though..." reasoned the young detective.

The Australian frowned, "What are you talking about Francis?"

"Think about it Rollie, it's late January, that thing with Loubar was what? Early December... It's only been six weeks, I'm surprised she hasn't lashed out more than she actually has."

Rollie went quiet, "Oh..."

"So what are we going to do now Rollie?"

Rollie eyed the box of letter Francis had slapped in his lap as they had driven away from the loft. "Well, we both have apologies to make... You got into hot water first so how about you go first?" He held up the box a little so Francis could tell what he was talking about.

"You mean go around and see Michelle Dobson,"

"Uh huh."

"Hmm, I dunno that I wanna face that temper again so soon but I guess I better. Grab the notebook from the glove box Rollie." He pulled his cell-phone from his pocket and keeping one eye on the road dialed the number for the precinct. "Hey, Gatti here. I need the residential address for Officer Dobson..."

Mira poked her head out the door of the loft, "Oh great - just great."

Angie was making herself another cup of tea as she heard the detective's comment, "What is it Mira?"

"Frank's taken the squad car…" replied the ticked off detective.

"I can give you a lift, I need to head in that direction anyway, to drop some stuff off at the set ready for tomorrow's shoot."

"That'd be great Angie, thanks."

Francis and Rollie headed up to Michelle Dobson's apartment after flashing Frank's badge at the doorman. They walked down the final hallway, and stopped, looking at each other in mild confusion, Michelle's apartment door was open.

Frank pulled out his gun and they approached carefully. Francis half knocked, half pushed the door open. "Officer Dobson? Michelle? You here?"

There was no answer and no sign of anyone being inside so the two friends entered slowly. The apartment was clean and tidy, with very few personal effects scattered on various horizontal surfaces. Francis explored in the direction of the kitchen as Rollie headed for the bedroom.

"Hey Frank, come look at this." called the Australian to his friend.

The detective headed over to where Rollie was standing and looked down at what had attracted Rollie's attention. A damp bath towel was lying on the floor, and beside it, an oxygen mask stuffed with a small piece of white cloth where an oxygen hose would normally be attached. Francis crouched down, carefully sniffing the air, "Chloroform" he stated as he stood again.

Rollie had walked further into the room and picked up an open locket from the bedside table, "Frank…" The two men looked at each other, the locket contained two pictures, one of Leo, and the other a woman who was probably Michelle's mother.

Angie was just pulling the FX van into the Midtown South Precinct parking area when Mira's phone went off. "Sanchez here."

"Mira, it's Francis. We gotta problem - Michelle Dobson is missing."

The detective looked over at the young FX expert in puzzlement as she responded to her partner, "What are you talking about Frank?"

"Rollie and I just went over there, to give her the letters, and apologise. She wasn't there and there are signs she didn't leave willingly."

"Oh..."

Detective Mira Sanchez stormed into the squad room, her eyes scanning the room like a hawk. Angie Ramirez trailed in behind, and followed the detective as she strode across to Officer Nate Wilson's desk. "Wilson, where's your partner?"

The black man leapt to his feet, thinking he was in trouble based on the tone in the detective's voice. "Umm, I haven't seen her sir. She didn't show for her shift."

"She should be here now?"

"Yes Sir." replied the Officer automatically

"Call anyone and everyone you can think of, track her down."

Mira turned on her heel leaving Nate Wilson saying "Yes Sir" bemusedly to thin air.

The detective headed off down to the records department, Angie gave up following and plonked down at Mira's desk waiting for her to return.

5 minutes later Mira returned, waving a few sheets of paper, and a grim smile on her face. Rollie and Francis followed her into the squad room lining up beside her desk. Francis looked over at his partner, "Any luck?"

Mira was about to speak when Nate Wilson arrived at the desk as well, "Sir? No one knows where Dobson is. What's going on?"

"Read that," replied the frustrated woman handing the man the papers she had as she turned her attention to her partner. "Dobson should be here - on duty. She's not and no one knows where she is. Combined with what you found, I think we got enough to start a missing person's file."

"Time to talk to Van Duran?"

"Yeah..." replied Mira.

Nate Wilson had been half listening to the conversation and half reading the page in front of him, "Oh jeez, McCarthy? Hey!" He looked up at the two detectives, Mira grabbed the pages from his hands. "I want in," he continued as Francis started to shake his head, "She is my partner..."

"Ok... We'll keep you in the loop."

Captain Marvin Van Duran was working through another tedious pile of paperwork when two of his best detectives, Mira Sanchez and Francis Gatti, burst through his office door. Normally he'd let fly for behaviour like that but after looking at the expressions on their faces he decided to leave that for the time being. "Detectives, what can I do for you?"

Mira strode up to the desk, "Dobson - how much of her personnel file did you read when she started?"

The Captain frowned, not sure of where Sanchez was going with this, "Probably just her service record if it was a busy day. Why do you ask?"

Mira slapped down several sheets of paper, as she replied, "We gotta problem. Read that."

After giving his detectives a mildly baleful look for (quite frankly) giving him orders as he started reading what turned out to be Michelle Dobson's personal bio details. His eyebrows hit his hairline in surprise as he read the paternal parent line, "I see. Where's the problem?" he asked challenging the detectives to justify their apparent position.

Francis replied, "Leo's not the problem, that was just a little background reading. The problem is, Dobson hasn't turned up for her shift. We found this stuff out this morning... I didn't take it too good and headed over to her apartment with Rollie Tyler to apologise for getting steamed at her. The place wasn't exactly torn apart or anything but Dobson wasn't there and it sure looks like she didn't leave willingly..."

"Tyler... that figures" Van Duran muttered to himself noticing Angie Ramirez sitting at Sanchez's desk, talking quietly with tall Australian in question. He continued at a normal level, "So no one knows where she is, and she should be on duty. You two checked out her stepfather yet, in relation to that murder?"

"Haven't been over there yet, sir. Thought we'd do that next."

"Good - head over there." The Captain pointed out the Rollie, "And get Tyler out of my squad room..."

Rollie and Angie watched the two detectives head into their Captain's office. As Rollie turned back he looked at Angie, she was avoiding eye contact, staring anywhere but at him. He watched her for a moment as she sat there uncomfortably. The Australian chewed on his lip for a moment before starting, "Listen, Angie..."

Angie interrupted him, "Rollie, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did, I deserved everything you said..."

Rollie, in turn, interrupted Angie, "No, you didn't deserve that. Nobody deserves to be yelled at like that, and I didn't mean it... I'm sorry too. This thing with Leo, and Michelle... It's, umm, well I'm not thinking straight." He looked down at her, and finally she looked up making eye contact and smiling tentatively. "So that explains why I blew up. What's got you riled up like you were Ange?"

"Would you believe hormones?" The young woman raised her eyebrows questioningly, trying to make a joke of the whole mess.

"Nope, but I would believe you if you said you were still hurting. It's been less than two months..."

Angie frowned and looked away, tearing pricking her eyes, "I don't know Rollie. It is this Leo thing too, I've never seen you so off balance, not since..."

The young woman was interrupted by the return of their friends. Mira knew she was interrupting something important but she other things to worry about, "Rol, Ange. Frank and I need to head over to the Douglas mansion. You two head home or wherever - we'll call you if something comes up."

Rollie didn't like being shut out of the deal so fast, "But Mira..."

"But nothing Rollie, this is a police matter first and foremost. I know how you feel about Leo, if we need you we'll call." She left him standing there slightly dumbstruck, as she departed the squad room, Francis shrugged his shoulders in mild apology and followed her out.

Rollie and Angie followed more slowly, pausing at the door to allow a young civil aid to walk quickly past. The young woman was carrying a yellow envelope, she walked across the squad room and dumped it on Michelle Dobson's desk before turning to leave. The envelope had been addressed in hand written shaky printing, 'Michelle Dobson, c/- NYPD - Midtown South Precinct'.
 

Chapter 7

Michelle Dobson was curled on her side in the middle of the carpet in the large guest room that was temporarily her prison. She was either asleep or unconscious, either way she was oblivious to the split in her lip, the black eye and bruised cheek. The young woman was also oblivious to her bruised and cracked ribs and the lump on the side of her head where she had struck the tailboard on the bed as she had fallen. She also couldn't feel the internal injuries from the heavy boots that had kicked her as she lay on the ground and all of the bruises and cuts on her arms and legs.

Roger Douglas stood in the doorway of guest room looking down at his step daughter, Dennis, head of his security force, was at his side. "So she's still alive then?" Roger asked with detached interest.

"Yes Sir," replied the menacing security officer, "we put her right in the condition you wanted her."

"Good" responded the wealthy man. He turned and left the room, Dennis followed, locking the door of the room before following his employer down the hallway.

The young blonde haired maid stepped out into the hallway from a room across the hall and watched the two departing figures. She scurried over to the door of Michelle's prison and tried opening it. After realising it was locked the young woman cursed quietly before tip toeing down the hallway in the opposite direction to that of Roger and Dennis.

A Maroon sedan pulled up outside the mansion of Roger Douglas. Detectives Gatti and Sanchez stepped out of the vehicle and strode determinedly towards the main door of the towering building. A butler met them at the door and escorted them silently to a drawing room where Roger Douglas himself was seated, reading a book in front of the open fire. The middle aged man looked up as the butler announced the guests. After the servant left the room Roger stood, walked purposefully over to a sideboard and poured himself a stiff drink. He looked benignly at the two detective, "Drink... either of you?"

Francis folded his arms in mild exasperation as Mira replied, "No thanks, we're on duty."

Roger looked surprised at this, "Oh? Well, then what can I do for you Detective?"

"Sanchez," was Mira's concise reply.

The butler entered the kitchen and uncharacteristically slammed the door behind him, to the curious glances from the cook and a young blonde haired maid, "The police are here. It would seem the Master's business dealings have finally caught up with him."

The cook rolled his eyes and continued working. The maid's eyes opened in surprise, "The police!?!" The young woman scurried away quickly smiling to herself.

Police Officer Nate Wilson stomped through the squad room and practically threw his hat down on his desk. Captain Van Duran had watched the African American officer make his tempestuous entrance and headed over to the man's desk. "Wilson, any sign of your partner?"

Nate looked up panicked for a moment as he heard the voice of his boss, "Uhh, no sir. It's, umm, it's getting frustrating sir. Something has happened to her, I know it."

"You're probably right Officer - we just need to prove it." The Captain was about to head back to his office when he glanced down at Michelle Dobson's desk and noticed the courier envelope that had been delivered earlier, "What's this?" he asked as he picked up the envelope.

Van Duran looked the envelope over, it was addressed to Michelle Dobson, c/- Midtown South Precinct. It was also marked as 'Urgent' and 'Important' but not marked with 'Personal' so he opened it. His eyes opened wide as he began flicking through the pages of documents describing the criminal activities of Douglas Finance, and some of their clients.

A young detective, with black hair and a tanned complexion rushed over to his superior, "Captain? There's something you need to know..."

The Captain glanced up, distracted, "What is it Detective Rizzo?"

"There's been another mugging related murder. A Richard Blackmore - an associate at Douglas Finance. Though you should know seeing as it's probably related to the Philip Bradshaw murder the other day..."

Van Duran looked even more surprised, and turned the pages back to the note addressed to Michelle that had been on top, he didn't bother reading the note, just skimmed to the name at the bottom - Richard Blackmore. Less than a second later he was through with thinking it all out and was giving orders. He passed the papers to the dark haired detective, "I want a search warrants for Douglas' house and business premises, and I want them yesterday. That should be enough to get them." He turned to Nate Wilson who had been watching the whole exchange somewhat dumbfounded, "You - find me Gatti and Sanchez, now." The Captain then turned on his heel leaving the two cops scurrying in his wake.

Michelle Dobson rolled over... and groaned. She might have been oblivious to her injuries before, but she sure wasn't now. Every nook and cranny of her body exploded with pain as she dragged herself over to the bed and pushed herself into sitting position, leaning against it.

Michelle sat there for several moments breathing deeply, catching her breath despite the protests from her injured ribs. "Oh god..." she whispered to herself. "Alright Dobson, you've been beaten to a pulp by your stepfather's henchmen. Now you're in a guest room of his mansion, presumably locked in. Chances are someone will come back sooner or later to finish the job. No one knows you're here and you're unarmed... What do you do?" The young woman chuckled, then regretted it as her head joined in the symphony of pain. "That wasn't in the Officers' exam, I wonder why." She began struggling to her feet, wincing as various injuries were put through their paces.

Finally Michelle was on her feet, and after pausing to catch her breath for a couple of minutes she staggered over to the door to confirm her earlier hypothesis that the door was locked. She rolled away, leaning heavily against the dresser a couple of feet away from the door, the exertions exhausting her again.

"Hmm, this could be useful..." commented the injured woman, studying the sturdy vase sitting on the dresser.

Roger Douglas escorted his two guests to the door personally, "Well, if I come up with anything that could help your investigation I'll be sure to get in contact Detective."

Francis headed out the door silently, the comment was directed at Mira so he allowed her the pleasure of responding. "Thank you Mr Douglas. And if you hear from your stepdaughter you'll be sure to let us know won't you..."

The middle aged man smiled sweetly, "Of course Detective. Good luck." He shut the door behind the two departing figures and without turning to look at the head of his security team he commented quietly, "I've had enough of this. Get rid of her - permanently."

Dennis smiled, and turned. He was going to enjoy this...

"That was about as useful as a smack in the mouth wouldn't you say Mira" commented Francis Gatti as he climbed into the passenger side of the sedan. "What the?" was his next comment as he heard paper crinkle beneath his backside.

Mira started the engine and pulled the car away from the mansion as Francis extracted the piece of paper that had crinkled as he sat down. "What is it Frank?" asked the sassy detective.

Francis responded by quoting what was written on the page, "It says 'Dear Police officer. There's someone being kept in the house against their will. The Master's security guards beat her up just an hour or two ago. I heard her scream.' There's no signature - think we found Michelle?"

"I think so." replied Mira curtly as she pulled the car over only a few blocks down the road from the Douglas mansion. She pulled out her cell-phone ready to call it in when, just moments after she turned it on, it rang. "Damn cellular secretary," muttered the detective as she checked the message. "Van Duran wants to see us, asap." she reported as the message played back.

Francis replied, "Call him. We don't have time to go back to the precinct - we gotta get Michelle outa there."

"Why is it..." Rollie Tyler asked as he hoisted a heavy box out of the back of the van, "...that when we want to steer clear of police work Mira and Francis, and Leo did too I guess, they get us mixed up in the middle of something messy." He placed the box in the ever growing pile in their corner of the half finished set, "But when we want to get involved - they shut us out."

Angie handed him another box, "You want to get involved, not us...".

"Angela!?!" growled the grumpy Australian.

"Oh, sorry Rol. I know you're worried about Michelle Dobson, I guess I am too." The young woman stepped out of the van, ran a tired hand through her hair and started sorting through the gear in one of the boxes, her boss watched her, quiet for a moment.

"Angie..." he questioned gently

Angie turned to look at her boss. She spoke quietly, afraid he would go off at her again, "Hey, I said I was sorry Ok Rol. Just leave it alone, please..."

Rollie took her by the arms, and as if reading her mind, "Angie, I didn't mean what I said back at the loft. You know that, right? We're a team, a partnership - I couldn't survive without you, remember that?"

The young woman smiled "Yeah, I know Rollie..." Rollie responded to her gentle reply by gathering her in a huge bear hug. They stayed like that until Rollie's cell-phone interrupted the moment.
 

Chapter 8

Dennis, the head guard at the Douglas mansion was just over 6 foot tall. He had broad shoulders, close cropped blond hair and an evil smile. He wasn't the kind of guy you wanted to meet on a dark night - if the smile didn't scare you, his threatening bulk did. And at that point in time Dennis was even more threatening than usual - he held a vicious looking handgun in his right hand - complete with silencer. He walked steadily down a corridor in the large house, pausing at a guestroom door part way down. Unlocking the door, the thug stepped forward into the room and frowned. He eyes searched the room, not seeing the young woman who should have been almost comatose on the floor. Dennis caught a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye, he was about to turn his head to look when consciousness fled with an impact.

Michelle Dobson collapsed forward onto the prone form of the brute she had downed with the vase. Pieces of the sturdy ornament were now scattered across most of the room. The young woman groaned with the exertion the sudden movement had required. She crawled forward and pried the gun from Dennis' hand.

Michelle scrambled away, pulling herself unsteadily to her feet and stumbled from the room, running for her life.

Detective Mira Sanchez and Detective Francis Gatti were sitting in Frank's maroon sedan, the pair were getting bored with the lack of activity and they were as worried as hell as they watched the comings and goings at the mansion of Roger Douglas. Mira happened to glance in the rear vision mirror and noticed the large black FX van pull up behind their car.

Rollie watched in mild amusement as his two friends leaped from the cold car and quickly walked back, climbing into the warm mobile special effects unit. "So?" Rollie commented to Mira, "What's the story, morning glory?"

Francis rubbed his hands together, and blew on them, trying to return circulation. Stakeouts in the middle of the New York winter were always the pits. He looked up at Rollie, "Michelle is inside there..." and indicated to the mansion behind him.

Mira had her mouth open ready to answer Rollie when Francis had interrupted her, she shot him
a mildly dirty look before she continued, "We went to question Roger Douglas, but he's got more evasive manoeuvres than the Star-ship Enterprise so we didn't get much... We get back to the car - there's a note on the seat saying that someone is inside the house and isn't in particularly good condition... We're assuming it's Michelle."

Rollie glanced up sharply, "What do you mean, 'not in good condition'?"

"She's been beat up, badly..." replied Francis.

"Yeah, and Van Duran and Rizzo are on their way, when they get a search warrant. But it's taking a while." interjected Mira.

Angie had been sitting towards the back of the van at her computer console watching the whole conversation with her arms folded. "So, what do we do now?"

The two detectives looked at each other guiltily before Francis replied, "I don't think we can wait... And I think Rollie and I should go in and get her out of there before..." He left the statement hang, looking into the eyes of his taller friend.

The young blonde nodded, biting her lip, she had half expected that answer. Rollie got a determined look that had 'let's do it' written all over it. He moved down to the back of the van to start getting the gear they would require without saying a word.

The prone form of the head of the Douglas mansion security force groaned, and a hand moved to touch the tennis ball sized lump that was forming on the back of the blond haired head. He sat up slowly, surveying the pieces of the smashed vase scattered around him. Then he scanned more carefully, and urgently as he came to a realisation.

"That dumb bitch pinched my gun!" he swore to himself as he fingered the lump again.

Dennis scrambled to his feet and rapidly headed out the door, to find his boss and report what had transpired.

Mira let out a held breath, "So, Ange... How are they doing?"

The young computer genius was fully focused on the information the computer was returning to her, "Wha? Oh, they're doing Ok I think. They're at the back door now... No dogs (thank god) and that alarm should be a doddle for Rollie."

The computer screen was split into several sections. The first showed an image of what Rollie was seeing, he had small camera mounted on his comm unit. The second showed a basic outline of half the building, based on a reading Rollie's PDA had been taking as the two men had snuck around the outside of the building. As Rollie deactivated the alarm and had attached a small black unit to some wires in the security unit an image flashed up on another section of the screen, showing the view from a security camera in one of the hallways of the mansion. Every few minutes that image changed to that from another camera.

"Ok Rol, we got the security camera, and the PDA is working on the map of the building. Do me a favour and don't run... it won't be able to keep up and you'll be screwed." murmured the young woman into her comm unit.

Rollie turned to Francis as they entered the building knowing full well that the cop had heard Angie as well, "Sure thing Ange. We'll do our best" he grinned at the shorter man and turned back to the task at hand.

Michelle Dobson stumbled down a long hallway, pausing every now and again to glance back to see if she was being followed. She slipped into a room, to rest for a few moments. Sweat beaded on her forehead, she was breathing deeply and she looked to be in a lot of pain.

Rollie and Francis crept through a doorway into the kitchen, the room was deserted, with the exception of one person. The young maid's eyes opened wide as she noticed the two obvious intruders. She turned to run through the door at the other end of the room, taking a deep breath so she could scream like a banshee. Rollie ran after her and grappled her around the waist before she made it out the door, he pushed one hand over her mouth to ensure her silence. The blonde woman struggled fiercely as Rollie talked quietly, "Hey. We're not going to hurt you. Calm down... Francis, show her your badge... Ouch."

Francis grinned indulgently as he pulled his badge from his pocket and the young woman stamped on Rollie's foot. The tall man wasn't in danger of loosing control over the young woman, just maybe getting a few minor injuries - like bruised toes. She calmed quickly after she caught sight of Frank's badge. Rollie still had his hand over her mouth and he questioned her quietly, "You gonna scream if I let you go?" She shook her head from side to side and he released her.

The maid's eyes were still open wide from the adrenalin rush as she turned to look at the two men, "Are you here to rescue that person that's being kept here?"

Francis quickly glanced at Rollie before answering, "Yeah, did you leave that note in the squad car?"

The blonde nodded quickly, smiling, "Yup, want me to show you where they are?"

Rollie glanced at her sharply, "Yes - where is she?"

Roger was sitting at an oak desk working through some files when Dennis burst in, without knocking. The older man sat back and frowned at the uninvited entrance, noticing the rumpled and frazzled state of his employee, "Let me guess. My stepdaughter has done something to put all my plans at risk yet again..."

The security guard blushed in embarrassment, "Uh - yes Sir. She managed to escape - we think she is somewhere in the house still. I've got guards at all the exit points."

"How did she escape?" asked Roger as he steepled his hands and watched Dennis squirm.

"Umm, she overpowered me and ran," murmured Dennis.

Roger leaned forward again, "I see. And how is it that a badly injured woman managed to overpower a healthy man who is half a foot taller and weighs about twice as much as she does?"

"She smashed a vase over my head... and stole my gun."

The crooked businessman leapt to his feet, "MICHELLE IS ARMED!?! And you don't know where she is!?!" He paused, catching his breath and sitting again as his security guard nodded. Roger continued, his voice low and sarcastic, "I want her found... and I want her dead... now... Do you think you can manage that simple little task?"

The young maid led Rollie and Francis to a guestroom on the ground floor of the large house. They had had to step into several rooms as they noticed (and Angie reported from the security feed) the movements of the security force. Rollie muttered to Francis just before they got to the room, "I got a funny feeling getting out of here is going to be harder than getting in was..."

Francis only had the opportunity to nod before they reached the room. The maid looked surprised at the open door, and the three of them entered. The room was large, for a guest bedroom, and empty. The short detective looked down at the smashed vase pieces and grinned, "Looks like someone else got on the bad side of young Mitch Dobson's temper..."

Rollie smiled as well before frowning, "Trouble is, we don't know where she is now..."

The maid watched the exchange between the two men, "So you guys have to go find her now?"

The tall Australian nodded, "Yeah - got any ideas?"

The young woman's eyes were as big as saucers as she shook her head vaguely, "I don't know. Do you still need me?"

Francis and Rollie looked at each other for a moment, before Francis turned back to the young woman, "Nah - you should go back to work. Just keep quiet about us ok?" The maid nodded quickly and fled. The two friends watched her go and looked out into the hallway. "So where to now Rollie?"

"Ange? Got any ideas?" murmured the special effects expert into his comm unit.

"Not really Rol, just work methodically - has she left any kind of trail. We've got a partial plan of the ground floor - so I'll keep you posted if you cover ground more than once" replied his assistant from the van outside.

"Thanks Ange. Lets go this way Frank..."

Dennis was all business as he approached one of his men, "Any sightings?"

The young man snapped to attention, "No sir, no one has seen her at all. But two of the men did find a used water glass in one of the bathrooms. It was still damp and they think it might have been her and are following it up."

"Get some of the servants on it, but only the ones we trust - we need to find her now..." muttered the man with both figurative and literal headaches.

"Is there any method to our mad directions" whispered Francis to his friend as he found himself getting thoroughly lost as they explored the mansion.

Rollie glanced back at the detective, "Yeah Frank. See the scuff marks in the carpet - someone has been dragging their feet as though they are really tired. I think we're getting close..."

Michelle pushed herself to get around the corner in the hallway, and promptly slid down the wall with a small moan. She couldn't push her body any further, sweat poured off her now as she shivered, and her chest and head howled in pain at the exertion of her flight.

The injured woman could hear the double set of footsteps following her down the hallway - pursuers that had been slowly catching up with her for a while now. She pulled the gun from the waistband at the back of her pants, and flicked the safety off. With the inability to run further, she had to make her last stand here, and now. With one arm wrapped around the centre of pain in her chest she pointed the gun to where she knew she would momentarily see her pursuer, her hand shook violently, tears streamed down her face and she knew she just wanted it to be over.
 

Chapter 9
 

Michelle Dobson saw the appearance of her pursuer and nearly pulled the trigger in a reflex reaction. It was only that she noticed he had shaggy brown hair and not Dennis' short blond hair that stopped her from firing automatically.

Rollie walked quickly around the corner, coming face to face the muzzle of a gun. He pulled back, his heart missing a beat as he half expected his head to be blown off. "Bloody hell" he muttered, as what he half expected didn't eventuate.

The Australian cautiously poked his head around the corner again. Michelle had lowered her arm and the gun to the floor, lacking the strength to maintain her aim. Her head was rolled back, leaning against the wall and she watched his reappearance in fear and defeat. "Rollie?" the young woman whispered in surprise as she realised who it was.

Rollie quickly cover the few feet that separated him from Michelle, Francis Gatti appeared behind him. "Oh my lord," muttered the detective as he first laid eyes on the badly injured woman.

"Bloody hell, what have they done to you?" mumbled the special effects expert as he crouched down next to Michelle. He gently took her face in his hands, "Mitch... Hey Mitch, we're gonna get you outa here."

The young woman's eyes rolled back before she concentrated and blinked slowly. Michelle then nodded and spoke quietly, "I think old Roger wants me dead so it's a good idea..."

Rollie moved to one side of Michelle, and indicated to Francis he should get on the other side. They each took an arm, and putting it over a shoulder gently pulled the young woman to her feet so she was standing between them. "Alright Francis, let's go." Michelle moaned in pain as they moved off, heading down another hallway of the expansive house.

Roger Douglas sat at the desk in his office working through the paperwork that the deaths of his two colleagues had created. Both Philip Bradshaw and Richard Blackmore had both been on the board - Roger now needed to refill their positions with men that were more likely to do his bidding. He glanced up at the clock on the mantelpiece - too much time had passed and he hadn't heard from Dennis. His stepdaughter still had the potential to ruin everything and it was, quite frankly, becoming distracting.

The middle aged man stood and strode out of his office. He walked down several hallways before entering a small room not far from the kitchens. It was the main security office. Across the length of a desk lay a number of television screens - all showing the views from the security cameras scattered around the mansion. None of the security personnel had remained in the office to monitor the screens. Roger frowned with that thought as he watched one of his men step into the view on one of the cameras, the man stopped and checked a room off that hallway was empty before continuing down the hallway and disappearing out of the view of the camera.

Roger turned to leave when he caught a movement on one of the screens out of the corner of his eye. He turned back to incredulously watch the male detective and a tall man with shaggy hair help Michelle down a hallway. The two men on the screen were looking around furtively but still moving quite quickly. The millionaire swore, a lot... then moved to a cabinet again the wall of the security room and retrieved a gun from one of the drawers. "If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself," he muttered as he checked the gun was loaded before turning and leaving the room.

"Angie. That's the third door with a guard on it. I gotta funny feeling they're on all the doors," commented Rollie Tyler as he, Michelle and Francis Gatti paused in the dining room as they searched for a way out of the house.

"I think you're right Rollie, and they probably know you're there now too, you just appeared on one of the security camera images..." replied his assistant. "You guys are gonna have to take out one of those guards to get out of there. Hang on a minute... Mira's got a call, I'll get back to you."

Rollie turned to Francis, "Damn those cameras... Ok, so we can't get out any of the doors. Got any ideas?"

The detective watched Michelle struggle to stay conscious, "Well, I don't think we can jump out any windows, or run anywhere for that matter so..."

Angie interrupted Francis, "Rollie, Francis... Van Duran is on his way with a whole heap of backup... Hang tight - we'll get you out."

Rollie smiled, "Thanks sweetie. Tell him to hurry up, oh, and you better make sure we get an ambulance too. Michelle isn't too good."

There was a short pause as Angie and Mira exchanged worried glances, "What's her condition Rollie?" asked the latino detective.

The effects expert watched the young police officer cough weakly before she groaned, "Well, I think she's got some broken ribs and all this moving around isn't doing her any good."

Dennis stormed around the house looking for his young nemesis, he couldn't understand how such a scrawny young woman could elude him and his men for so long. He was receiving a report for one of his subordinates when he saw his boss coming down a hallway towards him. He attempted to smile, but before he could inform Roger of how the search was progressing the shorter man backhanded him across the face. Under normal circumstances Dennis would never take that kind of treatment but he knew he screwed up and he wasn't beyond noticing the gun in his employer's other hand.

Roger was fuming mad, "Dennis, Idiot!! Why is no-one watching the security monitoring?"

The security guard was taken aback at the obvious oversight in his planning, "Umm..."

The millionaire brushed off his guard's uncertainty with a wave of his hand, "Forget it," he growled. "The point is there are two men in MY house, helping MY stepdaughter escape. One of them is a police officer... And I want to know why they HAVEN'T BEEN FOUND YET!!!"

Dennis reiterated his earlier comment, "Umm..." before expanding on it. "Well, sir, we have isolated them to the ground floor. And there are guards at every door. It's only a matter of time. Sir."

Roger didn't look particularly satisfied with the response, "You see that you find them... and soon..." He turned to leave, "Oh, and when you find Michelle, I want her brought to me, alive. I want the pleasure of killing the little brat myself." He stalked off again.

Rollie was hidden behind the dining room door, he could hear the conversation between two of the guards. "Any sign of them yet?"

"Nope, but we got it down to the ground floor. And the west wing is clear too, so they gotta be in the east wing or the central part of the house."

"So we're getting pretty close... You think you can cover the front door on your own?"

"Sure man, no-one is gonna get past me."

One of the guards headed up a hallway leaving one guard posted at the main entrance. Rollie crept back over to where Francis and Michelle were semi-hidden. He reported back, not only to the two people in front of him, but also to the ones hidden in the black van on the street outside, "They're getting close. We don't have much time."

Francis looked worried at the news, Michelle on the other hand looked totally defeated and miserable. Rollie smiled at her, "Hey Mitch - I said we were going to get you out of here, and I meant it. Don't worry..."

The injured woman just nodded, unconvinced. Francis piped up, "Rollie, I don't think we can move her again."

The tall Australian looked at his friend for a moment, thinking. "Ange? You think you could do something to buy us some time?"

Mira was still in the van with Angie and she looked at the young woman in expectation. Angie glanced around looking for inspiration, her eyes set upon the air gun they had been using to fire globs of wet goo during a fight scene in their latest movie. The blonde jumped out of the van into light rain and looked around noticing the overhead power lines that were feeding power to the Douglas mansion. The old established neighbourhood still had overhead lines and the poles were made of wood. "Yeah Rollie - prepare for a blackout. I'm gonna kill the power..."

Everyone, both inside and outside the mansion, who heard the comment looked puzzled as she jumped back into the van, grabbed the gun, checked it was loaded and leaped out again. She aimed at the top of the closest power pole and fired. The goo struck the pole and stuck, slowly sliming down the wet pole. The young woman swore and fired again, this time the goo struck the connector isolating the live wires from the pole, it was in contact with the live wire, and as gravity took effect it slimed down and connected with the wooden crossbeam. Sparks flew as the water contained in the goo became an effective conductor. By the time the heat from the arcing electricity had boiled the water out of the goo the wooden crossbeam was charred and burning. The weight of the line snapped the burning wood and the cable dropped towards the ground, swinging in and connecting with the pole, sending more sparks flying and finally causing enough tension in the heated wires for them to snap.

Angie had ducked behind the truck again with all the fireworks and poked her head out again as they appeared to be finished. She saw the cable on the ground and glanced up at the now darkened building. The blonde grinned, "Cool!"

Rollie grabbed his torch from his pocket and grinned in the darkness, "Way to go Ange. Come on Frank, let's ditch this joint."

Roger Douglas looked around in panic as the lights flickered and went out. "DAMN IT!!" he swore and pounded a fist against the closest wall.

Angie and Mira were both back in the van when a bevy of police vehicles and an ambulance turned up. Mira took off, to lead the assault on the mansion and Captain Van Duran entered the van moments later, "Ms Ramirez, what the devil is going on?"

The guard by the front door drew his gun in nervousness after the power went out. He had a pretty good idea it wasn't an accident that there was no power. He heard a slight noise to his left and as he spun around to see what it was when a torch flashed on in front of him and he found himself nose to nose with the muzzle of a gun. The tall special effects expert grabbed the guard's gun and the NYPD detective cuffed him. They dragged him back to the dining room, and quickly uncuffed one of the man's hands so they could wrap the cuffs around the leg of the heavy oak dining table and left him there.

Rollie and Francis then got on both sides of Michelle again, lifting her and they headed back out to the front entrance as fast as they could. Rollie held Michelle as she sagged against him as Francis unlocked the mahogany door and pulled it open. Light from the street cast a glow in the doorway.

The two men were about to help the injured woman out the door when they heard a voice behind them, "I'd stop right there if I were you..." Francis looked across at Rollie, then let go of Michelle and spun to face the voice with his gun drawn. Roger was standing a few feet away, his gun drawn as well. Standoff...

Mira ran for the mansion, her handgun in her hands. She sent various groups of the assault team to the different entrances to the house. The group heading for the main entrance sat back a little when they saw Detective Gatti right there in the doorway with his gun drawn.

The latino detective took a side entrance and they didn't waste any time going in. Quickly they had the guard at that entrance overwhelmed and they entered, running through the expansive house towards the main entrance where Mira knew Rollie, Francis and Michelle would be.

"You two can go - I don't care, just leave Michelle with me" stated the millionaire as he stared at his stepdaughter. Michelle was hanging off Rollie, barely conscious.

Francis said nothing, he kept his gun trained on the middle-aged man as Rollie spoke up, "We can't do that..."

Mira took a corner and could see Roger at the far end of the hallway, he was side on to her and had a gun drawn. She ran half way down the hallway before stepping into a doorway for cover and yelling, "This is the police!! Drop you weapon, we have you surrounded!!"

Roger's attention was diverted from Rollie for a moment as he heard Mira yell out and he quickly glanced down the hall to see heavily armed police officers ducking into doorways, guns trained on him. He turned back to Rollie, Frank and Michelle. His eyes narrowed and his finger tightened on the trigger.

Back down in the van Angie and Captain Van Duran heard several gun shots...
 

Chapter 10

Rollie and Francis both recognised the homicidal look hit Roger Douglas' eyes, and sensed the man's finger tightening on the trigger. Rollie hit the deck pulling Michelle down with him. Francis fired his gun, Roger's gun fired as well, and a bevy or shots fired from down a hallway assisting Frank's bullet in downing the millionaire.

Everything stopped for a moment as Roger shuddered before falling to the floor. Mira and her group of officers sprinted the rest of the distance down the hallway, the officers began arresting the various guards and staff that appeared from all corners of the house, with the purpose of at least questioning them later. The petite detective paused checking the pulse on the downed man. He was dead.

Francis took a deep breath and turned to Rollie and Michelle. The Australian was staring at a small hole in the wall just above his head, before he turned to the young woman in his arms. Michelle had finally had enough and consciousness had fled when they hit the floor. She lay limp in Rollie's arms, her breathing shallow and her skin pale beneath the bruises. Rollie looked up at his friends, "Get a medic..." before turning back to Michelle, "Don't you even think about dying Mitch. Bloody Leo would come back to haunt me if you did."

Angie looked panicked as she heard the call come down from the house for a medic, she had totally forgotten that Michelle Dobson was hurt before Rollie and Francis had even entered the house. She followed the medics up the hill, Van Duran followed as well, and after laying eyes on an uninjured Rollie Tyler she sighed in relief and made a mental note to throttle him later.

Rollie glanced up from watching the medics begin to treat Michelle and saw Angie. He noticed the look of relief on her face and smiled, making a mental note to at least TRY and stay out of trouble for a while.

Several days later Michelle Dobson was sitting up in her hospital bed picking at the edge of the blankets, totally bored and wanting to go home. Her mind wanderings were interrupted by a knock at the door. "Come in" she called.

The door opened slowly, Rollie Tyler poked his heads in. "Want some visitors?" asked the tall Australian.

The young woman grinned, "Sure..." Rollie entered, his hands behind his back and Francis Gatti followed behind him. The detective had a potted plant in his hands and Michelle looked at it questioningly.

Francis noticed the puzzled look, "My wife. She likes plants so she wanted me to bring this in for you."

Michelle nodded slowly, "Oh, ok. Thanks." The detective reached into his pocket and pulled out a small object, it was Michelle's locket, the one he and Rollie had found when she had gone missing. He silently handed it to the slowly healing woman, she frowned as she recognised it, "What were you doing with this?"

Frank blushed a little, "We, umm, we found it in your apartment the day you went missing, we went there so I could apologise. I kinda decided after yelling at you and with realising that you were in trouble, that I wanted to give it back to you in person..."

The young woman stopped him with a wave of her hand, "Sorta felt like you owed Leo one or something."

The nervous detective grinned in relief, thankful the spitfire of a woman wasn't going to tear strips off him, "Something like that."

Rollie recognised the uncomfortable looks on the faces of both of the police officers and interrupted from the other side of the bed, "The other reason we went to your apartment that day was to give you these." And he pulled his hands from behind his back and handed Michelle the shoebox of letters.

Michelle's face lit up, "The letters..."

The Australian grinned, "Figured you could use some reading material, if you're anything like the rest of us in hospital." One of Michelle's eyebrows lifted questioningly at that statement, Rollie's grin widened, "Tell ya later sometime."

Another knock interrupted the group, a middle aged man in a suit entered. "Michelle Dobson?" he queried as he saw the unfamiliar faces surrounding the bed.

Both Michelle's eyebrows lifted in surprise, and she smiled "David Potter... What can I do for you?"

The Lawyer smiled brightly, "Actually, young lady, it's what I can do for you... I'm executor of Roger's will. It would appear that Roger left everything to your mother... and didn't update his will after she died a couple of months ago."

The smile faded from Michelle's face, "Oh... so what happens now."

"You were the beneficiary of your mother's will, and Roger's only living relative - despite you changing to your mother's maiden name and... shall we say... not getting along with Roger, the adoption papers from when you were a baby are legal making you the next of kin and only relative. After a large chunk is taken out to sort out the legal problems Douglas Finance faces the rest of his estate is yours."

Michelle was now stony faced, "I don't want it."

The smile faded off Mr Potter's face, "Well Michelle, despite that, the money is yours and even if you don't want it you need to decide where it goes..."

Rollie recognised something in the young woman's face that suggested she was about to fly off the handle despite her healing injuries. "Mitch, I've got an idea."

Michelle turned to Rollie, and sighed impatiently, "What?"

"You could get a trust fund set up or something... In support of something you feel is important, and maybe even something that old Roger wouldn't approve of?" He smiled conspiratorially.

The young woman was silent for a moment with a thoughtful frown on her face as the idea ticked through her brain. An evil grin then gradually spread across her face as she got an idea. She looked up at the lawyer. "Mr Potter. I'd like you to see about setting up a trust as Rollie suggests. I want ALL the money to go into it..." Michelle then looked back at Rollie, "The Leo McCarthy Trust, its purpose to give financial aid to the families of police officers either killed or injured in the line of duty..."

Everyone in the room smiled - it was perfect.

Michelle watched everyone finally leave and sighed deeply. She opened the locket and stared at the faces of her biological parents before closing it again. She then stared at the shoebox sitting in her lap for a moment, slowly plucking up the courage to open it. When she finally did, she took the letter with the earliest date, ripped open the envelope and began reading.

"To my baby girl

Hey, welcome to the world. I saw your birth announcement in the newspaper. I tried phoning your mother, Roger Douglas (your stepfather I guess) intercepted the call and told me to stuff off, and he muttered rude things about restraining orders and that I should forget you even exist. I held my tongue, he's got a few powerful friends. I hope to God that he can be the kind of father I wanted to be for you.

Baby girl, I want you to know that I loved your mother. She was a beautiful generous woman who didn't deserve the likes of me. I didn't know she was pregnant with you until it was too late, until she was with Roger. I would have never let her go if I knew. Listen to your mother when she tells you things - she is a wise woman. And if Roger tells you things, only listen to him if he agrees with what your heart tells you.

Maybe one day we'll meet, I hope so...

From

Leo McCarthy"