BAM. BAM. BAM.

Somebody was pounding on his front door. Sounded like his partner... except his partner was on vacation, supposedly in New Orleans for the week.

"Levon!"

He groaned. The voice was familiar... but it wasn't his partner, Joe LaFiamma. It was Joe-Bill McCandless.

"Hey, Amigo! Come on! Wake up!"

And Esteban Guiterrez...

He groaned again and crawled out of the bed, grabbing a robe off the foot of it in passing. If it was Joe-Bill and Esteban, it had to be work. As he stumbled toward the door he wondered vaguely why they hadn't just called.

"All right! All right, I'm coming!" He groused as he yanked open the door. "What is it!?"

Joe-Bill and Esteban exchanged glances then Joe-Bill reached up and took off his hat.

It was a little thing but for some reason it set off alarms in Levon's head. Suddenly worried his demanded, "What's wrong?"

Joe-Bill hesitated, glanced at Esteban again and then blurted, "LaFiamma's been shot!"

"Shot?" For a second it didn't register, "How could he get shot? He's on vacation... in New Orleans... If this is some kinda--" He backed away from the open door, stopping a few steps back into the living room.

Joe-Bill and Esteban stepped inside, letting the screen door close behind them.

Esteban spoke softly, "No, amigo. I am sorry. It is very real. New Orleans PD called less than an hour ago," his voice faltered, "The Lieutenant, she is packing to drive down to New Orleans. She sent us to ask if you want to go with her."

"Is he...?"

"No. He's critical but not..." Joe-Bill let it trail off.

Lundy nodded. Don't say the word. Never say the word... cause if you say it, then...

"I'll get dressed." He started back towards the bedroom.

"Lundy..." Esteban's voice stopped him, there was something in the tone of it, quiet and a little hesitant, "there is something else.… He was tortured... after he was shot."

He stared at them, not quite understanding what was happening, "Why?" he whispered, then his voice rose to a shout, "Why? He was on vacation, dammit!"

"Don't know, Levon. I'm sorry... that's just what New Orleans PD, told the lieutenant." Joe-Bill said, "They seemed to think that somebody musta thought he knew something that they wanted to know real bad.... I'm sorry..." He turned to look at Esteban.

Lundy ran a hand through his hair, "Yeah, so am I... I know it ain't your fault... I 'preciate your coming by." he rubbed his hand across his face, "Should I call Joanne or..."

"She said if you was going, for us ta bring ya to Reisner. She'll pick you up there." Joe-Bill shrugged, "Kinda out of the way to swing by here..."

"Yeah. It won't take me but a couple of minutes to get my stuff together. Ya'll make yourselves ta home." He gestured towards the sofa.

_____________________________________________________________

An hour later he sat in the passenger seat of Lt. Joanne Beaumont's car, watching the sun rise as she drove directly into it, headed east, for New Orleans. He hadn't asked why she hadn't arranged to fly in. He knew that getting a flight arranged would have taken more time than driving. Hell, it would take longer to get approval to fly in than to drive down.

He shifted uneasily. He wasn't used to the passenger seat. He almost always drove. Joe didn't mind... much. He shifted again.

Joanne glanced over. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "It's just..."

"That you're worried. I am too."

They fell silent again. Levon's mind kept going back to the last time he's seen Joe....

*************************************************************************************************

He'd been on his way to bed and had answered the door in his nightshirt and barefooted. Joe had been standing there looking a little like a lost kid. He'd smiled at the sight of Lundy in his nightshirt then said, waving his hands around like he always did when he was talking, "I was driving by and I thought I'd ask one more time... I mean... You said you'd never been to New Orleans..." there'd been a hopeful note in his voice.

"And got no great desire to go," Levon'd snapped, through the screen door, exasperated with the man, "I done told you, Joe," he used his partner's first name to soften the words that followed, "I need a vacation *from* you not *with* you. Go on, enjoy yourself. See the sights, tell me all about it when you get back but I ain't goin'! That's final."

Joe had stepped back, half a step, the smile had faded and his hands got still, then he'd forced the smile back and said just a little too lightly, "Fine. I was just asking. See you when I get back."

Lundy had felt bad immediately but Joe had turned and was gone before he could say anything more.

************************************************************************************************

And now.... What if Joe died...? What if he died before Lundy even got there...? Before he had a chance to say that he was sorry, that he hadn't meant it the way it came out, that it was just that they'd been working such long hours that they'd spent practically every waking minute together and Levon just needed some time alone.

He shifted again and glanced at the speedometer.

Joanne shook her head and said, "I'm already breaking the speed limit, Levon. You want me to turn on the siren?"

"No. I just... Dammit! I feel so useless!" He turned to look out the side window, [And so guilty. If I'd gone with him....] He turned back to look at her. "'Xactly what did New Orleans PD say?"

"It took them a while to ID him. He didn't have any ID on him when he was found..."

"Where?"

She glanced over at him, "Cheap motel near the airport..."

"A motel!? Near the airport!? He had reservations in the French Quarter! It's all he talked about. Said he was staying on... Bourbon Street... I think it was."

"So what was he doing at a motel near the airport?" Beaumont mused. "And why did he sign in as *Anthony* LaFiamma of *Chicago* rather than Joseph LaFiamma of Houston?"

"Something musta happened... happened either on the plane or at the airport. He changed his plans... got rid of his ID..."

"Unless whoever shot him took the ID..." Joanne suggested.

"Huh-uh. He signed in as being from Chicago that means he didn't want to be connected to Houston. His driver's license would have said Houston. Might even have had his badge with him. He knew somebody was after him.... he got rid of the ID and his badge if he had it... but where?" He grew silent, thinking.

"Why couldn't what ever happened have happened before Joe left Houston?" Joanne asked, trying to keep Levon focused on figuring out what had happened rather than worrying about Joe... and in all probability blaming himself for not being there to help his partner.

"Joe stopped by the house the night before he left. Tried to get me to go with him again. Didn't act like anything was wrong... just wanted some company, I reckon, somebody to share the experience with." He hesitated, "Maybe if I'd a'gone with him...."

"Water under the bridge, Levon.... Nothing we can do about what's past... but maybe we can figure out what happened. Help get whoever... hurt him. I spoke to the Lieutenant in charge of the Homicide unit, Homicide has it because they're calling the attack, attempted murder. Lieutenant Michaels seemed to be willing to work with us. He wants to talk to me when I get in. I told him that Joe's partner might be coming with me."

"How'd he take the idea of me being there?"

"Seemed to think it was a good idea. Their best hope of finding out what happened is to back track Joe's movements. He said that as Joe's partner you could be a big help. That you probably knew how Joe thought better than anyone else would."

Lundy didn't answer, staring out the side window again. Words echoed in his mind.

*************************************************************************************************

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Joe'd asked once.

"I hope not!" Levon'd answered with a grin, only half teasing.

*************************************************************************************************

Now being able to figure out what Joe had been thinking could mean the difference between finding the people responsible for Joe being... where he was and them getting away.

He glanced down at his watch. Almost seven thirty. They'd been on the road nearly three hours. It'd been three and a-half-hours since Joe-Bill and Esteban had knocked on his door. Just over four hours since New Orleans PD called Houston… [How long did it take them to identify Joe? How long did he lay there in that room, shot and hurting… no backup… no partner…]

"Dammit!" He exploded, balling a fist and punching the dashboard. "I shoulda gone with him!"

Joanne glanced over at him but didn't say anything. She understood the frustration and the guilt he felt. She knew that the only thing that would make him feel better would be to get the person or persons responsible for Joe being hurt and even then… if Joe didn't make it… the guilt would always be there.

It was going to be a long drive. It was three hundred and sixty some miles from Houston to New Orleans, even at seventy-five miles an hour, six hours would be making good time.

She glanced over at Lundy again. She was glad that she'd eaten before they left, that Brad had fixed her breakfast while she dressed and packed. From the look on Levon's face he wouldn't take kindly to a suggestion that they stop for food.

______________________________________________________________

Joanne was glad that she had been to New Orleans before. Finding the hospital wasn't a problem.

She'd called in on the police radio as soon as she'd gotten in range of the New Orleans PD dispatch and made arrangements for Lt. Michaels to meet them at the hospital. He was waiting in the lobby and took them up to the Intensive Care Ward.

Michaels was a tall broad-shouldered man the color of rich chocolate. "I've had a guard on his door ever since we found out he was a police officer. You'll want to talk to his doctor, I'm sure, but you ought to know that he's in pretty bad shape--"

"You said he was shot?" Levon put in.

"Yes, he was. Three times in fact. The first two were minor, just flesh wounds, apparently meant to make escape difficult or to induce him to tell them whatever they wanted to know. He has numerous small cuts, very deliberately done, all across his chest and abdomen, also some cigarette burns in the same area. Again apparently intended to cause pain and persuade him to tell them whatever he knew. The third was in the chest, probably meant to kill him. He's a very lucky man. The third bullet somehow managed to miss both the heart and the lungs. The doctors are more worried about the blood loss from the wounds than the wounds themselves."

"Is he conscious?" Joanne asked.

"Unfortunately, no." Michaels said just as the elevator doors opened on the ICU.

They exited the elevator and Michaels lead them down the hall to an ICU room with a guard standing beside the door.

"Good morning, sir." The guard said.

"Good morning, Philip," Michaels replied. Then gesturing to Beaumont and Lundy added, "This is Sgt. LaFiamma's CO, Lt. Beaumont and his partner, Sgt. Lundy. How is he doing?"

Philip gave them an acknowledging nod then said, "Doc just left." The tall thin man frowned, "He still ain't woke up."

Michaels nodded then turned to his two visitors, "Only two people allowed in the room at once. I've got a stenographer sitting with him in case he says anything so it'll be one of you at a time."

Joanne gave Levon a look then nodded, "You go on, Levon. I can wait."

He gave her a grateful look and stepped through the door. He stopped just inside the door letting his eyes adjust to the dimmer light and heard her ask Michaels, "Has he said anything?"

He tilted his head and listened to Michaels' reply.

"Plenty. He was delirious when they found him. Unfortunately most of it isn't English. The only words that we have been able to understand are 'No!' and 'Never!' and an occasional name."

"That fits with the assumption that someone was trying to make him tell them something…." Joanne's voice trailed off.

Lundy moved closer to the bed his eyes locked on his partner, until movement beside the bed caught his eye.

The young woman seated there turned to look at him, "You must be Lundy." She said with a slight smile.

He nodded, barely sparing her a glance as he stepped closer to the bed.

LaFiamma lay still, covered to the waist with a plain white sheet, with a pale blue thermal blanket folded across his legs. Above where the sheet was folded back, his chest was covered with bandages. His hands and arms lay out from under the covers, IV's trailing from both. One led up to a bag of blood, another to a bag of clear liquid. There was a smaller bag, with its line hooked into the one from the clear liquid. A heart monitor beeped quietly in nearby corner of the room.

Lundy stopped beside the bed, staring down at his partner. After a moment he reached out and brushed the unruly lock of hair that was forever in Joe's eyes back and whispered softly, "I'm sorry, Joe. I shoulda come with you. Maybe if I'da been here, you'd be okay now. Least you woulda had some backup."

"And maybe both of you would be in here, instead of you still being able to go after whoever did this." The woman said, rising to stand beside him, laying a hand on his arm.

He turned to look at her then, taking in the dark eyes filled with understanding and sympathy, the dark hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail. She was older than he'd thought at first, maybe thirty-five and slightly plump. On the table by the bed lay a notepad and a pencil. "You're the steno?"

"Yes, sir. My name's Angela."

"Has he said anything that makes sense?"

"Not really. Mostly he talks in some foreign language, which I don't really understand. I just write it down phonetically and hope someone can translate it."

"More'n likely Italian."

"I know a little Italian and I've got that down but there's a good bit that sounds oriental…"

"Might be Thai. I know he speaks it."

"Oh, good that'll give them a place to start looking for a translator."

"Has he… has he asked for me?"

"He's called several names including yours." She turned and picked up the pad, flipping through it, "Levon… Lundy…. Cody and some thing that sounds like Koda Roe, said like one word, also Josette and one clear sentence: 'Go to hell, Vencetti!' The last is said very loud and angry."

Lundy had pulled his note pad out of his pocket and was writing down the names. "Thanks, Angela," he said as he tucked it back into his pocket. He turned back to look at Joe's pale face one more time before leaving. He reached out and touched the still hand. "Rest easy, partner, and get better. I'll be back."

Then he turned and went back out to let Joanne come in. In the hallway he gave Beaumont a slight nod and she nodded back and went in.

Turning to Michaels, Lundy asked, "Who's working the case?"

"Two of my best men, Dave Sinclair and Andy Bodine. They'll want to talk to you. I told your lieutenant that we'd keep you in the loop and if it's okay with Andy and Dave, you can ride along with them but understand: This is a New Orleans PD case. You're a guest."

"I understand that. I hope you understand that finding out what's going on here is real important to me. Joe's been my partner for near four years, now. I ain't about to let whoever did this to him walk away."

"I understand that Sergeant. Dave and Andy are good men. I'm sure they'll appreciate any help you can give them."

Levon looked up as Joanne came out of the room. Her face was grim. "I'm going to stay here and talk to the doctor, Levon. Then I'll have to call Joe's uncle…"

"Could you tell him that I'll be callin' later on this afternoon. I need to ask him a couple of question." Levon said quietly.

She nodded and Levon turned back to Michaels, "How about you introduce me to your detectives."

______________________________________________________________

A while later, Levon was sitting in a straight-backed chair beside Andy Bodine's desk listening to him and his partner Dave Sinclair fill him in on what was known about the attack on LaFiamma.

Dave Sinclair was red-haired and freckled, a tall, thick man who spoke slowly and moved with surprising grace for his size. Bodine was dark-haired and deeply tanned, thin-faced and hyper, constantly moving. A study in contrasts, a lot like him and LaFiamma, Lundy supposed. They seemed to work well together, to understand how the other thought, often finishing sentences for each other.

"He was found about three yesterday afternoon. The maid went in to clean the room and found him on the floor…" Sinclair began.

"Near had herself a heart attack. Though he was dead to start with." Bodine finished it. "Didn't have any ID on him. The motel clerk said he'd checked in the day before, about 10 am."

"Signed the register, Anthony LaFiamma. Gave his address as Chicago. Even gave a phone number there." Sinclair again.

"We called it. Turned out to be Chicago PD and when we mentioned the name LaFiamma we started getting the run around like you would not believe!" Bodine shook his head.

"Oh, I'd believe it!" Lundy assured them, "Joe was sent to Houston on account of the mob had a hit out on him. That was about four years ago. Hit's supposed ta be off, long as he stays outta Chicago but CPD is still wary of giving out any info on him."

"Reckon that makes sense," Bodine said. "Do you think this could have anything to do with that old contract?"

"Don't know but I've got me an idea of where to start trying to find out. That is if you boys don't mind a little help."

"Lundy, we'll take all the help we can get." Bodine said, "All we know is: His plane got in at 7:53 am day before yesterday. He checked in at the motel around 10 am that morning. Two hours and bit over in between and we ain't got a clue what happened during that time. He was found about 3 PM yesterday afternoon. Took us till near 3 am this morning to get him ID'ed. Doctor says that the first two gunshot wounds were mor'n likely inflicted shortly after noon day before yesterday, the last one around noon yesterday. The cuts and cigarette burns span the time between them. We've got a couple of uniforms with pictures of him canvassing the airport, trying to find anybody that might have seen him after he got off the plane. We've got a passenger list from his flight and have already questioned several of them."

"They all remember him but don't remember anything that might bear on the case." Sinclair put in. "So, if you've got something to suggest, suggest away."

Lundy nodded, "LaFiamma'd been planning this vacation for the better part of a year. He wasn't planning on staying in some cheap motel. He had hisself reservations at some fancy hotel… in the French Quarter. As I recall he said it was on Bourbon Street. Now, I don't know how many there are down there but… shouldn't be too hard to find which one it was."

The New Orleans detectives exchanged glances and Sinclair picked up the phone and started making calls. It was only a couple of calls later that he looked up and said, "I've got it… and he called the morning he was supposed to check in. Told the clerk that his luggage was being sent over by courier and to put it in his room. He told her that he was a cop and that he'd stumbled into something and was gonna be a little late. Instructed her to hold the room, billing it to his credit card whether he made it in or not."

He turned to look at Lundy, "Your partner must have a lot of faith in you, Cowboy. He told her that if he didn't get there, you'd come looking for him. Said he mailed you a package care of himself at the hotel and she was to hold on to it, until he came for it or you did." He smiled a tight little smile, "Looks like we might just have some answers. You wanna ride along?"

"Yeah," Lundy said, rising, "I damn sure do!"

____________________________________________________________

The hotel that Joe had chosen was actually a bed and breakfast, old fashioned, with an enclosed courtyard, right off of Bourbon Street. The clerk handed over the package that Joe had sent as soon as the police officers showed her their ID. She hadn't actually seen Joe but said that she'd liked his voice on the phone and was sorry to hear that he was in bad shape.

Lundy and the detectives went up to Joe's room to look around. His luggage sat unopened where the courier had left it, right beside the door. Other than that the room looked unoccupied. Levon walked over to the window and looked out. He smiled slightly at the view. The room was on the third floor and the French Quarter lay spread out beneath the window. Joe would have loved it. He looked down at the manila envelope in his hand, [Joe, what did you get yourself into, partner?]

He moved over to a small table with a chair beside it and sat down, opening the envelope. Bodine and Sinclair came over and joined him. He waited for them before dumping the contents out on the table.

He stared down at the items. Joe's badge case with his badge and HPD identification was the first thing he noted, then the credit cards, social security card, various club cards, even receipts and a couple of folded up bills. He sifted through it then said softly, "Looks like he dumped everything that had a Houston address on it."

Bodine shook his head and jumped up to pace. Sinclair sank deeper into his chair. Both looked thoughtful. After a minute Bodine queried, "Why get rid of his ID?"

Lundy took a minute to try and think of how to say what he wanted to say so that they would understand, "Let's assume he knew someone was after him. He signed in that motel as being from Chicago, so he didn't want who ever it was to know where he lives now. If they had searched him and he had this on him they would have known he lives in Houston now. So he put it where he could recover it if he got loose from them but where they wouldn't know where to find it since the only people who knew about his vacation plans were in Houston and at the hotel here."

"He addressed it to you care of himself at the hotel so that if he didn't make it you could recover it. I understand that," Sinclair said, "but there should be something in there to tell you what's going on, shouldn't there?"

"I thought there would be," Levon said sadly, picking Joe's badge case up and holding it. He opened it and stared down at the badge. After a minute his eyes suddenly focused on something that stuck out from under the ID on the opposite side of the case. He pulled it out and found himself looking at a picture of Joe… a very young Joe and an equally young girl. The pair of them stared out of the picture with defiant eyes. Both had dark places, which could have been bruises, on their faces. The picture was inside one of those plastic picture protectors that fit inside a billfold.

"What's that?" Bodine asked.

"Looks like LaFiamma, when he was a kid." Levon said, carefully sliding the picture out of the holder noting as he did that there was more there than just the picture. A second piece of folded paper came with the picture and it felt like there was something inside the paper.

Lundy laid the other paper down and unfolded the picture. There were actually three pictures, all on a strip, the kind that you get from a carnival or boardwalk picture booth. All were of Joe and the girl. He sat behind her with his arms around her. In the other two pictures they were smiling, even though the bruises on their faces were clearer in them than in the first one. He turned it over and looked at the back.

Written there in faded ink was: Codi Rose 2/14/76. True love is forever.

[Joe would've been sixteen.] Then he saw the other line, in deep clear blue, fresh ink. Just a date but it told him that this was the clue Joe had left just for him.

6/15/90 My Caroline lives.

Suddenly Lundy's hands were shaking and he found himself fighting back tears and losing. For a minute he let them flow then reached up to wipe them away.

Bodine and Sinclair were exchanging looks. Sinclair reached out to lay a concerned hand on Lundy's shoulder.

"I'm all right!" Lundy managed as he wiped the tears away. He swallowed hard then went on in a choked up voice. "Caroline was my wife… my first love… my childhood sweetheart. She died 'bout five years ago. Joe knows what she meant to me. When he says that 'his Caroline lives, he's telling me that this girl, this Codi Rose was to him what Caroline was to me… and from the date on it, he musta saw her that day. Maybe at the airport…"

He laid the pictures aside and unfolded the other paper. He wasn't really surprised to find that it was a marriage license issued in Chicago, Illinois for the marriage of Joseph Anthony LaFiamma and Dakota Rose McCoy, dated May 31, 1976. It was unsigned, unused. The bulk he'd felt inside it was the wedding rings, a pair of plain and simple gold bands.

What did surprise him was finding the pictures that had been hidden inside the license. One was of the girl from the other pictures. She was holding a baby up in her arms so that it faced the camera. She looked radiant and happy. He turned it over and read the line of writing: Josette Angelina 6 lb. 4 oz. 3/26/77 She has your eyes

He stared at it in disbelief. [Joe has a daughter.]

He reached for the other picture. This one was of a little girl, maybe six or seven years old. It looked like a school photo. Her dark hair was shoulder length and neatly combed… except for an unruly lock that fell forward over her eyes… deep blues eyes stared out at him, the color of Joe's. The shape of her face, the slightly pouty lower lip, the faintly crooked smile. [Joe definitely has a daughter!] He turned it over.

All the inscription said was: and your knack for languages. 4/26/84.

The other two detectives were looking at the items from the plastic holder and waiting for him to say something.

He shook his head, "He's got a kid! I can't believe he never mentioned her!"

"There must have been a reason..." Sinclair suggested.

"Yeah, had to be. Joe loves kids. Unless there was a real good reason not to he'd a'been braggin' about her loud and long ta anybody that he could corner!" Lundy avowed.

"We still don't really have any answers," Bodine put in.

"No, but we've got a lot more pieces of the puzzle and I think I might know who can help us put it together. Joe's got an uncle in Chicago. Man works for the mob, so I ain't real happy to have ta call on him but if anybody 'sides Joe can put it together for us he can… if he will."

"Your partner's uncle is a wiseguy?!" Bodine looked real unhappy.

Lundy bristled, turning to the New Orleans cop and snapping, "LaFiamma didn't have any say in the family he was born in ta but he chose to be a cop and he's a damn good one! Straight and honest. I admit I had problems with the idea of him being related to a mobster when he first come down here but he's proved hisself. He's the best damn partner I ever had and the best cop I know!"

He paused a minute. "As for Uncle Mikey… I don't know about the man. In the beginnin' I wouldn't have nothin' ta do with him, wouldn't even take phone messages from him for Joe but… in spite of being a mobster, which apparently ain't anybody ever been able to prove, he seems to care an awful lot about Joe. He went out on a limb to cut the deal that got the hit on Joe called off for as long as Joe don't go back to Chicago. Don't reckon we'll ever know for sure what that cost him. He's passed info to Joe that coulda got him killed if anybody ever found out that he was Joe's source…." Lundy had gotten up and started to pace.

He stopped and shook his head, "He's the only one that I know of that might be able to piece this together…"

The New Orleans cops, traded looks again, then Bodine gave him a nod. "Call him."

Lundy went over to the phone and picked it up. He got an outside line and pulling his pocket phone directory out of his pocket dialed Michael LaFiamma's personal 800 number. The mobster's smoky voice came on almost immediately.

"LaFiamma." He answered the phone the same way Joe did, with just his last name.

"Uncle Mikey? It's Sgt. Lundy." Levon said, "The Lieutenant was supposed to tell you I might be calling…"

"She did. Has there been any change with Joey?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I've been with the detectives working the case. I haven't had an update since before Joanne called you."

"I see," there was a pause then Uncle Mikey came to the point, "What do you want Sergeant?"

"I want to find out who shot Joe and why. I have a lot of pieces to the puzzle but I need someone who knows Joe's past to help me put them together. I was hoping that you would be willing to help."

The pause was longer this time then, "Tell me what you have."

"I've got a picture of Joe and a girl dated 2/14/76. I've got a marriage license issued to Joe and a Dakota Rose McCoy but never used. I've got a picture of that girl holding a baby. It's dated 3/26/77. I've got another picture of a little girl that looks an awful lot like Joe, that'n's dated 4/26/84. On the back of the first picture below the 2/14/76, Joe wrote 6/15/90, My Caroline lives. The name, Caroline, is a reference to my late wife. It tells me what this Codi Rose meant to him. Other than that all we have is what Joe's said while delirious. He's called the names, Codi and Josette. Josette being the name the girl gave the baby. He's also said quote, Go to hell, Vencetti, unquote. You got any thoughts on this?"

There was a very long silence then Mikey's voice came back, little more than a whisper, "Joey's got a daughter!" then after another long silence he said, "Old business, Lundy. Old business. Let me think a minute." There was another pause as Michael LaFiamma arranged his thoughts, then he said, "Salvadore Vencetti was a middleman, an arranger, you know what I mean."

"I think I do," Lundy said cautiously.

"Yeah, well the cops wanted him… bad. I don't know if Joey ever told you, but my brother, Joey's father was a cop. A good cop, like Joey. It wasn't easy for him, on account of who his family was but he did the job. Tony, Joey's dad went after Vencetti and the man killed him. Did it himself. It was a foolish move but he felt safe enough because Tony's partner, Mike McCoy was in Vencetti's pocket. He set Tony up for the kill. Unfortunately, Mike's wife saw the hit and saw a way to get a new start. She went to the feds. Told them she saw Vencetti kill Tony, knew that Mike set it up, agreed to testify if they'd put her and her children in the Witness Protection Program---"

"Why would she turn her husband in?"

"Mike McCoy was a drunk. He beat up on his wife and the girls. Joey was dating the oldest girl, Codi Rose. He'd get between Mike and her. Mike'd pound on him too but Joey wouldn't back down."

"That explains the bruises on her and Joe's faces in the picture."

"Yeah," Mikey paused then went on, "Joey and Codi had already bought the marriage license when Tony was killed. The feds put Mrs. McCoy and the girls in protective custody a week before the wedding was scheduled. I don't know what happened between Joe and Codi… we always thought that he didn't see her after that but if the baby was born in March and it is his, he'd have had to."

"Okay so, Codi was in the Witness Protection Program. Joe sees her here in New Orleans, maybe at the airport, and recognizes her… but how does that get him shot?"

"Salvadore Vencetti died in prison two years ago but his brother Andrew lives in New Orleans. He moved down there years ago. He's got a long memory and bears a grudge. If he saw Joey at the airport…" he trailed off then sighed, "you're right, Sergeant, there's still a piece missing. What would make him think that Joe knows where Codi is now when he accepted years ago that Joe didn't know where she was sent or what name she was given?"

"I don't know. Like you said, we're still missing a piece. Thanks Uncle Mikey for what you were able to give me."

"Yeah," the mobster sounded a bit embarrassed, then added, "I'll be on a plane to New Orleans in an hour. I'll put out some feelers before I go. You'll be at the hospital?"

"There or in Joe's room at the hotel." He gave the man the phone number at the hotel.

"I'll see you when I get in then." The smoky voice said, then with a click he was gone.

Lundy hung up the phone and sat still pondering. There was still something that wasn't right, something missing. He went back to the table where he'd dumped out the envelope and sorted through the items there. When he was done he smiled, a tiny, thin little smile of satisfaction. He'd been right. There was something missing.

Bodine caught the look, "What is it?"

"No driver's license," Lundy said.

"It wasn't on him…" Sinclair put in.

"Maybe he still had it and the guy who---"

"No," Lundy cut Bodine off, "Joe'd never make the mistake of keeping that if he got rid of everything else. He did something else with it…"

"Like what?"

"Maybe he gave it to her," Lundy tapped the picture of the girl holding the baby. "so as she could get in touch with him if she wanted to. She sent him pictures of the kid when he was still in Chicago, maybe he was just hoping to get more if she knew where he was now or maybe he wanted her to have a safe place to go if she needed to run."

He turned back and picked up the phone again. In a matter of minutes he was speaking with Carol O'Brien in Houston and a minute after that to Annie Hartung who was acting lieutenant while Joanne was in New Orleans. After exchanging greetings and filling her in on Joe's condition he said, "Annie, I need you to do something for me. Assign an officer or two to sit on Joe's place, at least till I get back to Houston… or I call you and tell you to take'm off."

"Levon, you know that I'll do anything I can for you and Joe, but I need a reason…" Annie said.

Lundy grinned. "It's kinda a long shot but he might be getting a visitor. Till Joe comes around, she's the only real hope we got of figuring out what happened. Seems it's all tied up with his childhood sweetheart and an old mob hit that her momma testified about."

"All right, then. I'll have Joe-Bill and Esteban stake it out."

"Thanks, Annie." Lundy said then hung up the phone and turned back to the two New Orleans detectives. "Ya'll mind dropping me at the hospital?"

He picked up the envelope, returned the items on the table to it then asked, "Ya'll gonna need this for evidence?"

"We might better hold on to it. At least until we know the whole story. We'll see he gets it back."

"Ain't much here that can't be replaced," He reached in the bag and pulled out Joe's badge case, "I reckon he'll want this and the pictures and stuff that was in it back." He flipped the case open and looked at the ID. Then he blinked and looked again. "Well, I'll be damned!"

"What?" Bodine and Sinclair said almost in unison.

"This ain't his department ID. This is his driver's license. He musta give her his police ID. It'd be a lot easier to replace. Takes a couple of weeks to get a new driver's license but he could go down to personnel and have a new department ID made up in just a few minutes."

"Smart man," Bodine muttered. "Hope he makes it."

Lundy looked down at the badge case and for the first time since he'd heard that Joe had been shot he felt certain that Joe was going to make it.

"He will," he said firmly, "Boy's a lot tougher than he looks… and he's got something to live for."

______________________________________________________________

At the hospital, Levon went straight up to the ICU. Joanne was sitting in the waiting area, drinking coffee and looking as tired as he suddenly felt. She looked up when he came in and called to him, "Levon!"

He went over and sat down beside her.

"They've taken Joe down to surgery," she said. "The infection's clearing up and he's been stable for several hours. His blood volume is good and his pressure is stable. The doctor thought that he was strong enough to handle the surgery. They need to get the bullet out of the chest wound. I tried to call but they said at the station that you had gone with the detectives to check something out…"

He nodded and filled her in on the afternoon's discoveries. After that there didn't seem to be anymore to say and they fell silent, just sitting and waiting for word on Joe or for his Uncle Mikey to arrive.

Night had fallen by the time that Joe was brought out of recovery. Doctor White, the surgeon that had removed the bullet, spoke with them for a few minutes, mostly just reassuring them that Joe had come through the surgery even better than expected. He was stable and they expected him to make a full recovery although it might take some time.

After he left Levon stood and stretched. Telling Joanne that he thought he'd sit with Joe for a while if they'd let him, he wandered down the hall to Joe's room, stopping at the desk to ask the nurse if he could go in. A new guard was on the door, but he greeted Levon by name, Lundy had walked down and observed the changing of shifts and been introduced to the new man. He let Lundy into the room with a nod and a smile.

Levon was glad to see that Joe's color was a little better. He didn't look quite as pale as before. The bag of blood was gone but he was still getting the clear liquid and the small bag that Levon assumed was still antibiotics was attached to it. He pulled over a chair and sat down near the bed. For a while he worried that a nurse would come in and tell him to leave but after a while he stopped worrying about it and settled down in the chair, falling asleep.

______________________________________________________________

In a richly appointed penthouse apartment in El Paso, a tall handsome man poured brandy into a pair of sniffers, swirling the liquid before offering one to the woman who stood gazing out the window.

"Come now, Alicia. I've asked you three times to marry me, and all you can say is you're not ready to marry. Josette needs a father. You know that I can provide for her…" He waved his hand around at the expensive furnishings, pointing out his obvious wealth.

"There's more to being a father than providing… things and more to being a husband." There was a stubborn look on her face. She was not nearly as richly dressed as the man. Her clothing was of good quality but more along the lines of the top of the line at Sears or J.C. Penney than the designer clothing that the man wore. She stared down at the brandy then sat it on the table untouched. She'd been considering marrying Benjamin Malcolm. He was her boss and a very wealthy man. She'd worked for him for nearly six years as an administrative assistant. He'd courted her ardently and he seemed willing to accept Josette. He'd taken them to New Orleans on vacation, spent an incredible amount of money on them… then at the airport, she'd heard the page.

*************************************************************************************************

[Miss Coda Roe, white courtesy phone please. Miss Coda Roe, please answer the white courtesy phone.]

At first she didn't realize what had been said then it hit her. Coda Roe was what Joe had called her when they were little, a corruption of Codi Rose that only he had ever used. It had been so long, so very long since she's heard that name. She felt her heart lurch as she realized what it meant. Joe was at the airport. He'd seen her, wanted to talk to her.

Somehow she'd managed to keep Benjamin from seeing the hope, the happiness that flood through her at the thought of speaking to Joe, hearing his voice again, even if they could never be together.

She'd excused herself, saying she had to visit the little girl's room. Josette seemed glad that she hadn't insisted that she go too. She'd made sure that she was well out of Benjamin's sight before going to one of the courtesy desks and telling the girl that she was Miss Coda Roe.

She knew his voice instantly, it was deeper than it had been at sixteen, fuller, richer but it still sent shivers up her back, ignited a fire in her belly.

"Hi, Babe."

She trembled with excitement, "Joey, Oh Joey!" was all she could get out.

"I'm sorry, babe. I know I shouldn'ta paged you… I'm putting you at risk. I'm so sorry but I saw you and I had to hear your voice."

"Where are you? I want to see you." She managed to whisper.

"Look up, the bank of phones off to your left. I'll step out toward the rail, far as I can and still hang on to the phone."

And she'd seen him, standing there looking down at her. The love in his eyes, the hope on his face was devastating. In that moment she had known; she could never marry Benjamin or anyone other than Joey LaFiamma.

He was still speaking, "I saw Josette! She's beautiful! I wish…. Oh, babe! I still love you. I miss you so!"

"I miss you too! I love you!" She'd blurted and hung up the phone almost running for the ladies room.

It'd taken her nearly ten minutes to get collected enough to return to Benjamin and her daughter, then when she opened the ladies room door Joey had been there.

He'd brushed past her, bumping into her. They'd stopped for just a second. She looked up into his eyes, the eyes she'd never forgotten, eyes that still looked at her with love. He pressed something into her hand then he was gone. She looked down at what he'd passed her. An ID card, Houston Police, his picture and an address. He'd given her a way to find him again… if she wanted to. He'd left it up to her… again.

She'd been the one that made the decision all those years ago. She's chosen to go with her mother and the other children into the Witness Protection Program, to leave him behind… not that there had really been a choice then. Salvadore Vencetti would have had her killed, if she'd stayed. Joey had said it himself, 'I can't protect you. I love you… enough to let you go so that you can live.'

*************************************************************************************************

She turned and looked up into Benjamin's face. She took a deep breathe, "I'm sorry, Benjamin. You're a good man. You've been good to me. You've been good to Josette, but I don't love you. I can't marry you."

"Alicia, please! What has love to do with it? I can take care of you, give Josette everything! Isn't that the most important thing."

"Maybe… if I didn't know what love is, had never loved and been loved, it would be enough. But I have and 'being taken care of' will never be enough, not when I have a chance to be with the only man I've ever loved, not when I know he still loves me, still wants me."

"Will he accept Josette? Like I'm willing to do? Take care of another man's child…"

"His child…"
 

Malcolm froze, "His child… Josette's father. How could you go back to him? He left you--"

"No! He didn't leave me. I left him… because I had no choice. I've been in the Witness Protection Program since I was sixteen years old. My mother testified against a very powerful and dangerous man. He would have had us all killed! Josette's father loved me enough to let me go. I was glad when I found out I was pregnant! Glad that I had Josette! That I had a little piece of him that would always be mine but now… I'm not sixteen anymore. The man my mother testified against is dead… and most importantly, Joe still loves me. My first love, my only love, my daughter's father is still waiting for me. All I have to do is go to him… and I'm going. I'm sorry if I hurt you. I never meant to. You can have all the presents you've bought me and Josette back…. I'll be leaving El Paso. You'll have to find another Administrative Assistant." She smiled, slightly, "I don't suppose that you'll be giving me a recommendation to take with me while I look for a job."

For a moment Benjamin Malcolm stood silent staring at her. Finally in little more than a whisper he said, "The Witness Protection Program? Dear God!" He shook his head, "You have more courage than any one I know."

He continued to stare at her for a long moment then went on, "You have been an excellent Administrative Assistant, you would have made an excellent wife, but if your decision is final… I can find someone else. As for the presents, I insist that you keep them. I bought them for you, I want you to have them… and Josette… I'll miss the little scamp. I accept your resignation as my assistant… I don't know what I'll do without you…."

"Promote, Melinda. I've been training her for my job… I really was considering marrying you. You are a good man, Benjamin. If I hadn't ran into Joe… maybe… but I did and I can't marry you now."

He nodded slowly, "Stop by the office in the morning. I'll have a letter of recommendation ready for you. You aren't leaving tonight are you?"

"No, I think this is going to take some explaining to Josette. I've never told her about being in the Witness Protection Program or about her father. I never actually told her that he was dead but I talked about him in the past tense… I think she believes he's dead."

"She's thirteen, old enough to hear the truth and romantic enough to think that what happened was a terrible tragedy and that finding him again is incredibly romantic." He reached out and touched her face, "I'll miss you. This Joe, who ever he is, is a very lucky man."

She reached up and grasped his hand. "Benjamin, I don't know what to say… You could have made things so difficult… You are a very special man and the woman that gets you will be very lucky. Thank you… for every thing."

He nodded and watched in silence as she gathered her things and left. After the door closed behind her, he walked over to the window and stood staring out, swirling the brandy in his glass, and taking a sip now and then. What to do now? Promote Melinda as Alicia had suggested? He thought about it. Melinda Montoya was a tall slim woman with a distinct liking for fine things. She might be just the one… and not just for his new Administrative Assistant. He smiled to himself.

Alicia had always been a shrewd judge of people. He'd take her advice. He would promote Melinda… and see what she thought of the idea of being Mrs. Benjamin Malcolm.

_____________________________________________________________

There was a car waiting for Michael LaFiamma at the airport, a long black limousine with tinted windows and a driver with a familiar face.

JD Bellarosa, leaned against the side of the limo, waiting for his passenger. Except for the waist length black hair and the cat green eyes he could have been Joe LaFiamma's twin. He grinned when he saw Michael LaFiamma walking towards him. "Uncle Mikey! What brings you to New Orleans?"

"You haven't heard, JD? Joey's in the hospital here. He's hurt bad."

JD's face froze, the green eyes went icy. "Do you know who put him there?"

Mikey nodded as JD held the door for him but didn't answer until he was safely inside, behind the bulletproof glass of the limo. As JD slid into the driver's seat and closed the door Mikey said, "Andrew Vencetti. You know where to find him?"

"I know."

"Take me there."

JD looked at Mikey in the mirror. "Would you like me to pick up a couple of the cousins on the way in?"

"Do you need them?"

"No. I can handle Vencetti's muscle."

"Good."

______________________________________________________________

Andrew Vencetti thought that he was an important man. He ran a prostitution ring and owned several other, more legitimate, businesses in New Orleans' French Quarter. He felt safe sitting at the owner's table in one of his restaurants, until he looked up and into the hard dark eyes of Michael LaFiamma.

It took him a minute for it to register that the man standing before him was Mikey LaFiamma.

Without preamble Mikey spoke in his gravely voice, "You made a mistake, Vencetti. A bad mistake. Joey's blood. If he dies… your next meeting will be with your brother… in hell."

Vencetti gave a curt nod and a couple of bodyguards that occupied the table next to him started to rise.

JD materialized at Mikey's side, stepped quickly past him and with out the slightest difficulty took both the guards out. A quick slash of his hand caught one in the throat, sending him back into his chair gasping for breath. The other reached for a gun and JD clamped a hand down on his wrist, digging a thumbnail into a nerve there. The guard's hand opened and the gun clattered to the floor. JD kicked it over and Mikey bent to retrieve it with a gloved hand as JD calmly tapped the guard in the middle of his chest, then lowered him back to his chair, bent over and gasping for air like his partner.

Vencetti tried to smile; tried to act like he wasn't afraid. He glanced past Mikey, looking for the guard that posed as a maitre de. He didn't see him. He frowned.

Mikey smiled, it was not a real pleasant sight. "He'll be all right." He gestured with the gun, "They will be, too." He regarded Vencetti, like a cat looking at a captured mouse, "You, I am not so sure about…." He let it trail off.

After a moment's reflection he said softly, letting the gun carelessly drift in Vencetti's direction, "Perhaps you should tell me why you… injured, my nephew."

Andrew Vencetti swallowed hard, staring at the gun. The restaurant was not very crowded and the owner's table was to the back and in a sort of semi private alcove. His men had been taken out without drawing the slightest attention. He was alone and Mikey LaFiamma was not known as a patient man. A careful one perhaps, but then the gun in his hand belonged to one of Vencetti's own men and the Chicago mobster was wearing gloves. It occurred to the man that he could die, right there, and the odds were good that Mikey LaFiamma and his hired gun would simply walk away.

It was doubtful that any of the couples in the restaurant would hang around for the police to arrive. Vencetti's was an intimate little place, a rendezvous for lovers, who were usually married and not to each other.

As for the police, they'd be glad to see him gone. They'd been trying to get something on him for years. They would either put it down that his own man had shot him over some disagreement or they'd stick it in the unsolved file and forget it.

Either way he'd be dead, and Mikey LaFiamma would walk away. He swallowed again and croaked, "Benny… he heard Joey page the McCoy girl. Used the name Coda Roe. Benny said Joey used to call her that when they were kids…"

"Benny?"

"DeMira." JD supplied. "I'll deal with him."

The flat cold statement drew Vencetti's eyes to JD He really looked at the man for the first time and gasped. The resemblance to the man they'd shot and tortured was incredible.

Mikey LaFiamma nodded. The last piece of the puzzle fell into place. Benny DeMira was another of the dozens of cousins that included Joey and JD. They had all grown up together back in Chicago. Joe's mother had had twelve brothers and sisters, his father fifteen. There were a lot of cousins, the LaFiamma's, the DeMiras, the Bellarosas, the Delaventuras, not to mentions the Brownings, the O'Brians, the Riley's and the McAllisters. They were scattered far and wide. It wasn't really surprising to find that one worked for Vencetti, disgusting but not surprising.

Mikey handed the gun to JD who tucked it in the back of his belt then they turned and were gone as quickly and as quietly as they had come.

Andrew Vencetti breathed a sigh of relief that he was still alive and reached for his cell phone. He would at least warn Benny that someone was looking for him. The man had been a loyal employee. He remembered the ice green eyes of the man with LaFiamma and shuddered. Benny would be difficult to replace.

______________________________________________________________

The ICU was quiet and still when Michael LaFiamma stepped off the elevator. He stopped at the nurse's desk and asked for Joe LaFiamma's room, informing the nurse that he was the next of kin.

The guard on the door didn't want to let him in.

Mikey's lips thinned, "Is Lundy here?" He demanded.

The guard nodded.

"Get him." It was an order.

The guard hesitated then pushed open the door, "Lundy?" He called softly.

Levon was awake instantly, "Yeah, What is it?"

"Man here says he's LaFiamma's uncle."

Lundy stood and stepped out into the hall, rubbing his face to try and wake up. He saw Michael LaFiamma and nodded, "Yeah, that's Joe's Uncle Mikey," he told the guard then turn to the man. "There ain't been any real change. He ain't woke up. The doc says he's getting stronger but…"

The Chicago mobster nodded and stepped past Lundy into the room. Lundy pulled the door to, staying out in the hall with the guard, letting Joe's uncle have a few minutes privacy.

Mikey LaFiamma walked slowly to his nephew's bedside. He reached out and took one of the still hands in his. "Oh, Joey. What am I going to do with you, kid? Always getting yourself hurt. Always trying to protect somebody, trying to be Superman. You're not Superman, kid." He paused a minute then sighed, "But that's why we love you so much isn't it. You tried to be the hero that we all wanted to be and didn't have the courage to try to be."

He stared down at his favorite nephew for a few minutes then said softly, "You hurry up and get well. Everything is gonna be okay. I'm no hero, kid, but Vencetti won't bother you again… or your woman and your daughter. That's a promise. Blood to blood." He bent over the bed and placed a gentle kiss on Joe's cheek. "Wake up soon, kid. I miss you. Your Aunt Teresa sends her love and everybody's praying. Your cousin Phillip is holding a special mass tonight at the church, just for you. The whole family will be there to pray for you." He blinked back tears, "Don't you dare die! I love you, kid."

He stood a moment longer. Then turned abruptly and strode out of the room.

Lundy was leaned against the wall opposite the door when Michael LaFiamma stepped out. He noted the watery eyes and the drawn look. The man looked like he'd aged ten years in the few minutes he'd been in with Joey.

He looked up at Lundy and cleared his throat. "We need to talk, sergeant."

Lundy gave a nod and inclined his head towards the waiting area down the hall.

Joe's uncle joined him and they walked in silence to the waiting area.

When they were settled out of earshot of the guard Uncle Mikey said, "Joe paged Codi Rose at the airport. He used a childhood nickname that he probably thought no one else would recognize. Unfortunately, one of the cousins that he grew up with, in Chicago, now works for Andrew Vencetti. He recognized the name and while he was unable to spot Codi, he saw Joe and followed him…"

"His own cousin!"

"It's a big family, Lundy. Joe has more than a hundred first cousins. They aren't all good friends. Some resent that Joe became a cop…."

"This is one of them."

"Yes,"

"What's his name? Where can I find him?" Lundy demanded.

"You can't." The voice came from behind him.

Lundy rose, turning to stare at the man standing there. He blinked. [Joe? No! Not Joe…]

Cat green eyes met his. The man stood in a familiar pose, arms akimbo, feet apart. Waist length hair, black as coal fell unimpeded down his back. He smiled at Lundy's stunned look, then slowly the smile turned into Joe's familiar grin, "We're cousins, identical cousins…." It was half sung.

Levon recognized it as the beginning of the theme song for an old sitcom about two cousins that looked just alike… but were very different in personality.

The man stepped forward, holding out his hand, "I'm JD." Even the voice was almost identical. The smile faded, as the voice turned serious, "How is Joe?"

"Better. Not awake yet, though." He hesitated, "What'd ya mean I can't find the guy that…"

"He has…" he paused, the way Joe sometimes did when he was looking for the exact right word, then went on, "…disappeared."

"Disappeared! We'll put out an APB…"

"Useless." The word was calmly spoken. The green eyes locked on Lundy's and held.

Lundy swallowed hard, realization sweeping over him. [Man's dead. Shark food… more'n likely.]

JD stepped back slightly, settling into his stance, in an, oh, so familiar way, his hands now clasped in front of him. The resemblance to Joe was accentuated by the almost perfectly identical mannerisms.

With a chill, Levon realized that if JD wanted to he could quite easily pass for Joe. Under the right circumstances, Levon was sure he wouldn't be able to tell the difference if JD cut his hair like Joe's.

JD regarded him with a slight smile. "We got over that a long time ago."

Lundy blinked, giving him a puzzled look.

"We haven't switched in years. Part of the reason Joe keeps his hair so short is that I like mine long. There was a time when we not only wore our hair the same, we dressed identically."

"They were a real pair of jokers as kids. Some days their own mothers weren't sure which one was which," Uncle Mikey put in.

JD smiled fondly at Uncle Mikey, then turned back to Lundy. "Do you think they'd let me see Joe. I would like to very much."

Lundy hesitated. He was sure that the man in front of him had almost certainly just come from killing a man, a man who was his cousin, just like Joe was a cousin. On the other hand the man that JD had… probably disposed of had most likely been responsible for Joe's current condition. JD seemed genuinely concerned about Joe's condition….

He gave up trying to reason it out. "I'll ask if you can go in for a few minutes."

JD nodded slightly, "Thank you."

A few minutes later, Lundy escorted him down to Joe's room and told the guard to let him in.

JD stood beside the bed in silence for a long minute then reached out and caressed Joe's face, "Hiya, Jojo. Long time, cousin. You've looked better. Wish you could talk to me." He paused and took Joe's limp hand in his, using one finger to trace the lines of the veins that twined around the forearm, "You're still working out I see, got good definition going there. You wanna wake up soon now. Too many days lying here and you'll start to lose the cuts. I still do mine everyday too. Do you remember when we started? We were competing. You were gonna bench press five hundred before you turned twenty-one. Still don't know if you made it. I didn't. So, if you did, you won our bet. I know I oughta come to see you more often, 'specially now that you're living in Houston. It's not that far from N'Orleans. I love you Jojo." He bent and kissed a pale cheek. "And Benny, that bastard. Don't you worry none about him. He's history."

He turned and walked out the door. He and Joe had taken different paths but God help the men who had hurt his cousin. Uncle Mikey might be willing to let Andrew Vencetti keep breathing but JD wasn't so sure that was a good idea. He'd wait though until Uncle Mikey was safely back in Chicago. He wouldn't want anybody wondering if Michael LaFiamma had anything to do with it when Vencetti vanished into thin air.

_____________________________________________________________

Alicia Montgomery parked her rental car in front of the apartment building on Leland Street in Houston, Texas and turned to look into the deep blue eyes of her daughter, Josette.

"Are you ready for this, Jo?" She asked it quietly, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice.

Josette looked out the car window for a few minutes before replying and then it was with a question of her own, "Do you think he'll like me, Mom?"

Alicia reached over and stroked the errant lock of hair out of her daughter's face. "I think he'll love you, baby."

"You said you left him… Wasn't he mad about it?"

"He understood. Your father… Joe was special. Even back then at sixteen he was so strong… God, he was special! He knew that if I stayed Vencetti's men wouldn't let me live. He had the strength to let me go, to give me up so that I could be safe."

"He couldn't have gone with you?"

"Joe was the first born son. His dad had just been murdered. His mom had six other children to raise… Joe couldn't leave her alone. It was complicated, Honey."

Josette turned and looked back out the window at the apartment building, "I bet they don't allow kids here." She said ominously.

Alicia sighed, then opened the car door. "I'm going in. Are you coming?"

The dark head turned, dark blue eyes locked with light blue eyes, then with a quick nod, Josette opened her car door and got out.

Alicia smiled to herself. Josette had no idea just how much like her father she was. It was more than the dark hair and the blue eyes or even the same general facial shape. Josette had Joe's spirit; strong, stubborn and proud. Like her father, she preferred to face things head on. There wasn't, as the saying went, any back up in her.

Now Josette threw her shoulders back, raised her chin and marched ahead of Alicia across the street to the apartment building where the father she had never known lived.

______________________________________________________________

Esteban answered the door at Alicia's knock. "May I help you?" He asked in his soft accent.

"Oh!" Alicia looked confused, "I'm sorry, I must have the wrong apartment…"

"Who were you looking for, if I may ask?" Esteban said.

Alicia hesitated but Josette, suddenly impatient pushed past her, "We're looking for Joseph LaFiamma!" She declared.

"Then you have the right apartment. My apologies that Joseph can't be here. I am Sergeant Esteban Guiterrez of the Houston Police. I work with Joseph. Please come in and allow me to explain."

Again Josette was the one to react. She stepped into the apartment, head up, eyes defiant as she looked round. Alicia followed her in and Esteban closed the door behind them.

As Esteban escorted them toward the couch, Joe-Bill emerged from the upstairs bathroom and came down the spiral staircase, he grinned at Esteban, "That who we've been waiting for, Amigo?"

"I believe them to be, although Lundy did not say that we should be expecting a woman."

Joe-Bill gave a little snort, "LaFiamma's in trouble, you can bet there's a woman in it!"

"Joe's in trouble?" Alicia demanded.

"In the hospital in New Orleans. Still not conscious last we heard," Joe Bill supplied.

"Oh, God! What happened?"

"We do not have the details. Miss…" Esteban let it trail off into a question.

"Montgomery, Alicia Montgomery and this is my daughter Josette."

"Do you know anything about what happened in New Orleans?" Esteban asked,

"I saw Joe there. He passed me his address so that I could get in touch with him…. Do you think this has something to do with me and Josette?"

"We don't know ma'am. I need to make a call." Joe-Bill gave Esteban a meaningful look and went upstairs to use the phone in Joe's bedroom.

An awkward silence fell while he was gone. Esteban really didn't know what to say to the woman and her daughter. He was struck by how much the child looked like LaFiamma, but was reluctant to mention it.

Alicia was becoming upset. She had hoped to find Joe here, but now she was confronted by two men, who said that they were police officers and friends of Joe's but she hadn't seen any ID.

After a moments silence she cleared her throat, "I'm sorry but could I please see your ID?"

"But of course!" Esteban smiled and reached into his pocket to take out his badge case. "I apologize again. I should have shown you the badge at the door."

He held it out to her and rather than just look at it she took it and pulling Joe's ID from her pocket, compared them. After a minute she handed Esteban's badge back to him. "Thank you," She said quietly.

The awkward silence returned until Josette sat up straighter gathered up her courage and demanded, "Do you know my father well?"

Esteban's eyebrows rose, "Your father? Do you mean LaFiamma?"

"Yes, Joseph LaFiamma. My father."

Esteban gave Alicia a questioning look.

"Yes, Joe is her father."

"Does he know this?"

"Yes," Alicia refused to elaborate.

Josette was not to be derailed however, "So. Do you?" she demanded.

"Do I…" Esteban turned back to her a bit confused by the news that Joe had a daughter.

"Do you know my father well?"

"I have worked with him for three years now. We are friends. I… He is a good policeman but… he can be…"

"You don't know him well." Josette stated.

Joe-Bill returned in time to catch the end of the conversation, "Don't nobody know LaFiamma all that well, 'less'n it's Lundy. They've been partners for a mite over four years now… an' sometimes Lundy can't figure him out." He turned to Esteban. "Annie wants us to bring them downtown. She's gonna call the Lieutenant and see what she wants us to do."

_____________________________________________________________

When Esteban and Joe-Bill escorted Alicia and Josette Montgomery into the ICU ward, Lieutenant Beaumont was waiting in the visitor's area for them. She smiled slightly when she saw that both Joe-Bill and Esteban had come down.

"Keep this up and the entire HPD MCU will be in New Orleans," she greeted the two men with a small smile. Then turning to Alicia she said, "I'm Lieutenant Beaumont, Joe's CO. He still hasn't regained consciousness but the doctors think that he's going to be all right. Levon said that you were Joe's childhood sweetheart…?"

"You could say that. We planned to be married."

"I understand. Well, from what we've been able to find out, Salvadore Vencetti's brother lives here in New Orleans. He found out somehow that Joe had seen you. Apparently he and one of his men followed Joe when he left he airport. They caught up with him and tried to make him tell them where you were. Have you seen any indications that your cover has been blown?"

"Joe doesn't know where I live. He saw me and had me paged using an old nickname. We spoke on the phone for a few minutes. He passed me in the corridor a bit later and slipped me his HPD ID. I don't see how anyone could have connected us… and Joe would never have told them where we were even if he'd known."

"I see," Joanne said thoughtfully. Her gaze wandered to Josette and she smiled softly. "She does look like him... Joe has a daughter… incredible." After a moment she returned her attention to Alicia. "The doctors think that he can hear us. If you'd like to see him, hearing your voice might be just what it takes to wake him up."

"I didn't come all this way to not see him, Lieutenant," Alicia replied.

Josette turned away from the window she'd been staring out of, "I want to see him too, Mom."

Joanne nodded. "Levon's sitting with him at the moment but I'm sure he won't mind stepping out so you can go in."

______________________________________________________________

Joe was floating. He could hear someone talking nearby, it sounded a bit like Lundy but his partner was back in Houston.

He'd been aware, more or less for quite some time now. Resting in a dream state half way between consciousness and unconsciousness. He felt unbounded by the constraints of time and space. He'd slipped away to this place to escape from Vencetti's endless questions… and Benny's knife. Benny had always had a thing for knives.

Lundy's voice rose and fell, it sounded like he was reading something aloud. Joe wondered vaguely what it was and why Levon was reading it to him, but it didn't seem important.

He drifted away from Levon's voice and back towards Chicago, towards the carny. It came to their neighborhood two, sometimes three, times a year. A cheap show with a half a dozen of rides and twice that many game booths. He could hear the music of the merry-go-round, mingled with the music from the Ferris wheel. He could smell the popcorn and the cotton candy…. Codi had loved cotton candy. They'd both loved the Ferris wheel, riding it again and again every time the carny came around. Their younger brothers and sisters loved the merry-go-round. He wandered towards it. Codi would already be there, waiting for him while her brothers rode the ride. He could almost hear her voice calling to him. He smiled and somehow she was suddenly with him, his arm around her shoulders, her arm around his waist, her head resting on his shoulder. They were walking towards the photo booth where they had their pictures made every time the carny came around.

He'd been ten the first time he's shyly asked her to go to with him. He'd won her a cheap adjustable ring at the ball toss and she'd worn it for years as proudly of it as if it had been real gold and diamonds. He always won her something. Once it had been a really nice music box. He could still hear the tune. The box had played Annie Laurie. It was an old Irish tune and Codi, being proud of her Irish ancestry, had adored it.

______________________________________________________________

Alicia stood beside Joe's bed, reaching out she slipped her hand into his, "Oh, Joey, I am so sorry. This is my fault. If I hadn't answered that page this wouldn't have happened to you. I'm not sorry that you still love me. I love you too. I want us to be together. Please wake up." She bent and kissed him lightly on the lips.

He smiled in his sleep but his eyes didn't open.

Josette stood close at Alicia's side. "Oh, mom! He's so gorgeous! "

"Yes, baby. He is."

"Can I…" Josette stretched a hand towards Joe's.

"Of course." Alicia reached up to stroke Josette's hair.

Josette hesitated for a moment then reached out and took Joe's hand in hers, "Daddy?" He looked back at her mom, "Is it okay if I call him that?"

Alicia nodded. "I think he'd want you to."

Josette turned back to her father. "Daddy… I don't know you… but I want to. Please wake up. Please come back to me, Daddy…" A tear slipped from her eye and fell onto the hand she was gripping.

_____________________________________________________________

Joe floated towards the air rifle booth. This was where he'd won the music box for Codi. Even them he'd been able to shoot. It had cost him his last dime to get that box but the look on Codi's face when he gave it to her had been worth it.

Something was wrong here though. He could hear a child crying. It was coming from somewhere close by but he couldn't see the child. He heard her calling, "Daddy! Please come back to me, Daddy!"

______________________________________________________________

Josette reached into her bag and pulled out a small box. She had brought it with her when they'd left their home in El Paso.

Alicia's eyes widened at the sight of the box. She watched as Josette carefully placed it in Joe's hand.

"I brought you a present, Daddy. It's real special to me. Mom gave it to me when I was little. It's my favorite thing… I want you to have it. I… I love you, Daddy. Please wake up." Josette wiped tears away and reached down to open the top of the box.

Alicia pressed her hand to her mouth to keep from sobbing as the soft clear notes of Annie Laurie began to play.

______________________________________________________________

Joe was floating again. The carny had vanished. He was drifting in a pale white light but he could still hear the child crying and now there was something else. Codi's music box, he could hear it playing. He struggled, trying to move, trying to find his way out of the place he was in. Codi was somewhere nearby… and the child… was that Josette crying?

"Daddy! Please wake up!"

Josette! He had to get to her. His baby needed him. She was crying….

_____________________________________________________________

Joe's body jerked on the bed. With a sharp gasping intake of breath he arched up. The heart monitor in the corner began to beep faster then he coughed and his eyes opened. His hand closed on the music box as he tried to focus. He turned his head, searching, "Koda? Zette?" He mumbled.

"Daddy!" Josette's voice was loud and happy.

"Joe!" Alicia reached out and hugged Josette as she reached the other hand towards Joe.

He let the music box slip from his hand to lay on the bed as he reached out to take her hand. "Hey, babe." He mumbled then slipped back off to sleep.

_____________________________________________________________
 

The End
 
 
 

 What follows is a scene of purely gratuitous violence strictly for the blood thirsty fen who just have to know exactly what JD did to Vencetti.

It was a beautiful night out on the water. The moon was full and the ocean calm. A soft breeze blew across the bow of the sailboat as it skimmed along.

JD Bellarosa handled the boat expertly. They were well out in The Gulf, past the three-mile limit, in international waters.

The man that sat on the cargo hold cover watched him admiringly. "Didn't know you could sail, JD," he commented dryly.

"Come off it Ryan. You know I can do almost anything... if I want to."

"Guess so. It did make you one hell of a covert operative," he tilted his head and listened a moment. "Sounds like your guest is waking up."

JD shrugged, "Let him. We're almost there... and I want him awake and aware." He smiled a tight little smile.

Ryan nodded and ignored the yells and shouts of anger and frustration that came from below.

To say that Andrew Vencetti was upset would be an understatement of immense proportions. Andrew Vencetti was livid... not that it was going to do him any good.

He'd gone to sleep in his own bed, next to his favorite whore. He'd awakened briefly to the knowledge that someone was standing over him then he'd lost consciousness as something stung the side of his neck. Now he was god only knew where. From the movement he felt, he thought he might be on a boat. If so it was a sailboat as he heard no engine.

He couldn't tell how big the compartment he was in was. He was securely bound. His hands were tied behind his back. His feet were tied together with a short piece of rope between them. Another rope encircled his chest, passing under his bound arms and then binding him to a post behind him.

He wasn't gagged or blindfolded. If he'd thought about it that should have warned him that the people who had him were not afraid of him seeing them. He wasn't smart enough to think about it.

Ryan struck the sails and JD brought the boat to a halt. As Ryan went below to haul Vencetti up to the deck, JD walked around the edge of the deck, peering down into the water.

He went to a large bucket sitting on the fore deck and picked it up, carrying it to the rail, he tipped it over the edge. Hunks of raw bloody meat fell out of the bucket and into the water.

He turned back to watch as Ryan hauled Vencetti onto the deck.

Vencetti froze when he saw JD, recognizing him instantly as the man who had accompanied Mikey LaFiamma into his restaurant the night that Benny DeMira had vanished without a trace. "You!" He snarled. "What'd'ya think yer gonna do? Huh? My people will--"

"Your people don't have a clue where you are or who has you." JD's voice was perfectly calm. "I don't like you," he continued softly, "You hurt someone that I care a great deal about. Now it's payback time. Simple as that."

"You won't get away with this! Whatever you're thinkin' of doin' you better just stop. I'm a powerful man!"

"No. You aren't. You never really were." JD's voice never lost its calm quiet tone. "You've always thought you were but you aren't. No one even knows you are gone. I went into your home, took you out of your bed, from the side of your whore and brought you here. No one saw me. No one heard anything. No one is looking for you... and no one will be looking for you until well after you are dead."

Vencetti blinked, finally beginning to realize that he was about to die. The utterly calm, matter-of-fact tone in JD's voice was what finally made him understand.

"N-no! Please! I'll pay you! Give you anything! I-I'll--"

JD's smile cut him off, "You have a real problem, Vencetti. I don't need money and you don't have anything I want."

He turned to Ryan; "I sent the invitation out to our dinner guests. Why don't you haul him over to the edge of the deck and introduce him?"

Ryan grinned and complied.

Vencetti went white as he saw the sharks swimming next to the boat, feeding on the chum that JD had dumped just minutes before.

"Looks like we got a good turn out!" Ryan laughed. He shoved Vencetti against the rail, "Take a good look bad boy. They're real hungry... and you're lunch."

JD walked over to join them, drawing a large combat knife out of his boot. He reached up and caught Vencetti's chin in one hand then carefully drew the razor sharp blade along one of the terrified man's cheeks. He reached down and cut the rope between Vencetti's ankles then nodded to Ryan.

The big man dragged the screaming, begging Vencetti to the aft of the boat as JD reset the sails and prepared to move the boat. He tied the end of the rope that had bound Vencetti to the post in the cargo hold to the aft railing and then waited for word from JD.

JD came back and sat down at the tiller. "Now, Rye. If you please."

Ryan only grinned in reply and shoved Vencetti off the aft of the boat as it began to move slowly forward.

The man's shriek of terror cut the night air.

"Don't reckon anybody will come to investigate do you?" Ryan asked.

"I doubt it. We're far from shore and well away from any other boats." JD replied.

In the water, Andrew Vencetti felt something brush against his leg. he began to scream even before the shark turned and came back around taking the leg off at the knee in one bite.

A few minutes later JD asked, "I don't suppose you brought the shark fishing equipment?"

"No. Why?"

"Well, we might have caught one tonight," he looked over at Ryan, his green eyes glittering with amusement, "after all we used live bait."

Ryan's laugh was loud and long. "JD, you've got a mean streak a mile long and as wide as Texas. I could use somebody like that. You wanna come to work for me?"

 
"Depends, who signs your checks these day?"

"Checks?! You wound me, kid! I get paid in cash! Half in advance, half on delivery... and you always could deliver the goods."

"I'll think about it Rye. I'll think about it." JD smiled at his former Covert Ops CO as he guided the boat farther out into the ocean.

Ryan gave him a curious look and raised a brow at the direction they were sailing but said nothing as the coast line slipped farther and farther astern and finally vanished.

JD loved the way the boat responded to his touch. He loved the wind on his face and the taste of salt water in the air. The moon hung low over the water, it's light like a path drawn atop the swell of the sea. JD sailed into it.

It'd been a long time since he'd felt really challenged by his work. Maybe going freelance with Ryan was the answer. They'd been good together... real good. Maybe the best team that the CIA had had... with the exception of JD's cousin Tony and his partner, Hunter.

Finis

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