For a long moment, Nick met those cold green eyes, understanding that he was under assessment.  Finally, he offered his hand.  “Agent Larabee?  Detective Nick Adamson.”

Slowly, Larabee’s hand rose to clasp his.  “Detective Adamson.”

The man’s voice was expressionless, his grip dry and firm.  His gaze never left Nick’s face.  Nick knew he’d received only conditional approval.  And he thought he had a good idea just what those conditions were. 

Tearing his attention away from Larabee, he moved toward the bed, noting the tightening of Buck’s grip on the thin hand he held.  Tanner’s eyes flicked in Nick’s direction, but were immediately redirected toward the ceiling.

“Mister Tanner, I know you’re injured, but I’m investigating the deaths of two men.  I’m hoping you’re up to telling me what you can about what happened.”

He ignored the reflexive jerk of Buck’s body, the movement from the man by the door. 

“Now, Nick…”

“’S all right, Buck,” Tanner interrupted, tugging his fingers free from Buck’s grip.  “Knew somebody’d come.”

“It’s too soon,” Buck objected.  “C’mon, Nick.  He’s only been awake for twenty-four hours.  Let him get a bit more put together before you start grilling him!”

“I’ve got no intention of ‘grilling’ him, Buck.”  Nick kept his gaze fixed on the pale, bruised face of the man in the bed.  “We know you’re a victim, Mister Tanner.  We know whatever you did was done to save your life.  But…”

“I know,” Tanner whispered, finally dragging his eyes away from contemplation of the water stains above his head.  Nick felt the jolt of the man’s despair as startling blue eyes finally met his. “I know I killed a man.  Two, I think.  And I knew you’d come.  So let’s get on with it.”

Buck was on his feet.  “Vin…”

“I ain’t yer baby, Buck!  I said, I want ta get it done!”

Buck’s hands clenched into fists.  He stood for a moment, body stiff with tension.  Then he nodded and relaxed.  “Okay, Vin.”

“Mister Tanner, I know some of what you need to tell me is a bit… personal.  We can do this privately if you wish.”

Tanner’s mouth twisted as he glanced at Buck, then nodded.  Nick caught Buck’s eyes, then tilted his head toward the door.  For an instant, the big man resisted, face tight with mutiny.  Then, with a resigned sigh, he capitulated, dragging his feet toward the exit.

Larabee stayed stubbornly seated, shaking his head silently as Buck gestured toward the hall.

“Not a chance in hell,” he rasped.

“Chris,” Buck hissed, tugging on a black-clad shoulder.  “Vin wants…”

“Bucklin.”  Tanner’s voice was barely audible.  “Ain’t yer baby,” he repeated.  

“I’m not leaving.”  Larabee’s voice was hard and unequivocal.

“Ya are,” Tanner insisted.  “Ain’t your call.”

“Vin…”

“Get out!  I got a right to say.  Don’t want you here!”

For a long moment, the harsh words hung in the air.  Nick watched as Larabee’s face shifted from stubborn fury, through frustration, and into reluctant acquiescence.  He rose slowly to his feet, moving like a man with a body much older than his face suggested.

“Right.  Whatever you want.”

Relief sweeping over his face, Buck pulled the door open, cast a final, warning glare in Nick’s direction, and moved to follow Larabee out of the room. 

“We’ll be right out here, Junior.  You decide you’ve had enough, just give a shout.  We’ll hear.”

Tanner nodded silently, eyes again directed toward the ceiling.

Nick sank into the chair Buck had vacated.  Examining the man in the bed, he was somewhat surprised to feel his stomach twist uncomfortably.  He’d been in this business long enough to have conducted way too many interviews like this one.  Odd—and rather comforting—that he could still feel the compassion such experiences deserved.

“Okay, Mister Tanner.  I’d like to start by just letting you describe the incident as you remember it.  Take your time, rest when you need to.  I’d like this to cause you as little distress as possible.”

“Vin.”

“Pardon?”

“M’ name’s Vin.”

“Okay, Vin.  Oh, and unless you object, I’ll be taping our conversation.”

Tanner’s eyes squeezed shut.  “Yeah,” he whispered.  “I figured.”

For nearly a minute, he chewed on his lower lip, gaze distant and unfocussed.

“I’s runnin’.  Been to the park, runnin’ the paths.  Was nice.  Chilly, sunny.  Nice.”  He drew in a noisy breath, holding it for a moment, then puffing it out.  “Walked home to cool off.  Was a couple blocks away, an’ I heard… she’s screamin’.  Down the alley.  Knew she’s in trouble.”

He wriggled, then used the control to raise the head of the bed, fidgeting with the cord and button.

“Two of ‘em—big bastards—tryin’ to shove her in this beat-up van.  Side door’s open, engine runnin’.”

“Don’t suppose you remember what kind of van?  Color?”

“Umm… light color.  Maybe white, but real dirty ‘n’ beat up.  Mighta been a Chevy.  Think I saw that little crooked thingy Chevy logo.”

“Good, good.  License?”

“No.  If I noticed, I forgot.”

“Still good.  Go on.”

“Lit into them, told the lady to run.  At first she didn’t.  Sorta leaned on the wall.  Think they mighta hurt her, the bastards.”  Tanner’s quiet voice took on a hard edge. 

“She’s fine, Vin.  A bit bruised, but fine.”  Nick glanced at the door, an earlier conversation with Buck flitting across his memory.  Robin Hood.

“Good.”  Vin nodded firmly.  “I’s afraid they really hurt her.”

He returned to gnawing on his abused lower lip, then sighed again.  “Had ‘em down; kicked one of the fuckers in the head!”  He turned to Nick, sudden apology in his expression.  “Sorry.  Forgot about the tape.”

Nick smiled gently.  “I don’t think you’ll shock anyone.”

Vin nodded, then turned his eyes upward again.  His fingers slowly tightened into fists.  “Ain’t just sure what happened.  Heard a roar—maybe the engine?—then something walloped me.  Think the van mighta backed into me.”

Nick nodded slightly.  They’d had their forensics experts analyzing the kidnap scene, and the story told by the tire rubber laid down in the alley was consistent with Vin’s supposition.

Tanner’s breathing was accelerating.  “Don’t r’member much for a bit.  Shakin’ around, hurtin’.  Hands wouldn’t work.  Maybe… maybe in the back of the van.  Arguin’.  Light too bright.  Hittin’ the ground, wantin’ ta throw up.  Arguin’.”

“How many?”

“I think… three.  Whiney.  Sniffer.  Hard Voice.  Didn’t hear more than three.”

“Those were their names?”

“Nah.  Just in m’ head.  Called each other… um… Wiley?  He’s Whiney.  Sniffer… maybe Eddie.  Hard Voice…”  he licked his now-swollen lip.  “Dunno.  Can’t r’member.”

Tanner’s clenched hands were trembling, his breathing now rapid and shallow.  Nick leaned forward and spoke gently.  “Maybe it’s time for a break, Vin.  Time to relax a bit.”

Vin panted for a moment, then nodded sharply, accepting the glass of water offered by the detective.

Nick stood and turned to gaze out the window, giving the other man a few minutes to drink his water and get himself under control.  They were just getting to the really tough stuff.  He found himself wondering if Tanner was going to last.

“Ernie!”

He turned back, startled by the exclamation.  Tanner’s blue eyes were fixed on him.

“Pardon?”

“Ernie.  Whiney called the other guy ‘Ernie.’”

Nick smiled down into the bruised face.  “Great.  That’s all three, then.”

“I’m ready,” Vin stated, visibly forcing his hands to relax and flatten on the blanket. 

“Sure?  I can wait.”

Tanner’s shaggy head shook.  “Wanta get this over with.”

“Understandable.  Okay, what’s the next thing you remember clearly?”

“Don’t think that’s exactly what Nick meant when he kicked us out, pard.”

Chris glared from his position leaning against the door to Vin’s room.

Buck propped his shoulders against the wall, then slid down to sit on the floor.

“You sure you really want to hear this?  Bound to be rough on the blood pressure.”

“I need to hear.  Need to know what those fuckers did to him.”

“Even if he doesn’t want you to know?”

“Isn’t up to him.  I need to know!”

Buck sighed, shaking his head.

“This ain’t gonna come out good, Chris.  He’s gonna be spittin’ if he finds out.”

Chris didn’t answer.  Just tightened his jaw and pressed more tightly against the door.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Vin tilted his head back, face buried as far as possible in his pillow.  “Whiney… tossed me on the bed.  He… they…”

“All of them?”

“Uh… No.  Only Whiney and Sniffer.  Perverts.  Hard Voice told ‘em they’s perverts.”

“All right.  Just the two.  And…?”

“Hands were tied.  On the bedpost.  R’member Whiney… God, thought I’d choke on the stink o’ his damn breath!  On top o’ me.”

His breathing was again accelerated.  Nick waited, letting the younger man find the words he needed.

“Th… they raped me, the bastards!  Took turns.  Whiney and Sniffer.”

“Goddamit!”

Nick’s head jerked up at the exclamation clearly audible through the room’s door.  He glanced down, frowning at the flaming humiliation sweeping over Tanner’s face. 

“Excuse me for a moment, Vin.”

Grimly, he strode to the door, jerking it open and stepping back as Larabee’s leaning body lurched into the room.  Though Buck wasn’t propped against the door, Nick could tell he’d heard at least some of the painful narrative.

“Privacy isn’t an abstract issue for some of us, gentlemen,” he snapped.  “Show some respect for this young man and move away from the door!”

Larabee, back on his feet, glared at the detective, but didn’t attempt to argue.  Buck slipped past the two into the room.

“Hey, Vin,” he said softly, moving to the bedside.  “Promise we won’t do it any more.”

Vin shifted his eyes away from the window to meet Buck’s apologetic gaze.

“’S all right.  Guess I understand.  I just…”

“Yeah, I know.  But ya gotta remember what nosey old ladies we are,” he teased gently.  “And shit, Junior.  Remind me never to piss you off.”

For a moment, Vin looked at the big man, and a small, sad smile curved his lips.  “Couldn’t ever get that pissed at you, Bucklin.”

Buck also smiled, nodding.  A sound very like a growl came from the man standing in the door.

Vin’s eyes flicked toward Larabee, then quickly turned back to the window.

“Okay.”  Nick cleared his throat, moving back from the door.  “So now, gentlemen, let’s try to honor the intent of privacy, not just the formality, agreed? Buck…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. “Why don’t the two  of you go get those guns out of my trunk. I assume you have a vehicle with a secure space to store them? And the next time I open that door, I want to see both of you sitting in the chairs in that lounge down the hall.  No more leaning against doors. Oh, and don’t tell my Captain that I gave you custody of my keys, right?”

Reluctantly, the two ATF agents nodded and stepped back through the door.  Nick followed them, and watched as they dragged their feet toward the lounge.  He kept his eyes fixed down the hall long enough to ensure that they actually sat down, then closed the door and returned to his seat. 

Carefully, he laid his hand on Vin’s shoulder, trying to ignore the flinch.  “I know this is hard, Vin.  But you’re doing great”

Vin nodded gratefully, eyes still shut.  “I… Ain’t exactly somethin’ I wanna think about.”

“Understandable.”

For the first time, Vin’s blue eyes met Nick’s, seeking something.  Nick tilted his head in query. 

“Them two…”  Vin turned away again, jaw muscles tightening.  “They’s big, but soft, ya know?”  For a couple of seconds, his voice stalled.  Then he ground out, “How the hell could I…?  I shoulda been able to…”

“Vin,” Nick interrupted softly.  “It was two big, flabby guys… and a truck.  I think it was the truck that took you down.”

Vin’s chest rose and fell harshly, the echo of his forced breathing the only sound.

“Yeah.  Right.” 

“Right.  Believe it, son.  Nobody can win all of the battles.   Sometimes the bad guys just swing too big a stick.” 

The injured man nodded silently.  Nick busied himself for a few seconds, glancing through the notes he’d taken.

“All right.  Nearly finished here.  However, something I would like to hear about is after.  I mean, what happened to…”

“What’d I do to the bastards?”  He shook his head, mouth twisting.  “They argued.  All the time.  Never seemed to get along over anythin’.  I’m thinkin’ Hard Voice—Ernie—was in charge.  He didn’t… only Whiney and Sniffer… uh… he never touched me.  Gave the other two a lotta grief.  After… I think I passed out for a while.  Then Whiney came back.  He’s grumblin’ about Ernie.”  Those blue eyes opened again, and Vin turned his head to stare past Nick, out the window.  “Think they’s plannin’ to get rid of me.”

“Kill you?”

“Yeah.  Whiney wanted one more…”

Nick waited as the painful narrative stalled.  He glanced down at the running tape recorder, and knew he had to prompt.  Speaking as gently as he could, he asked, “You mean, one more assault?”

“Yeah,” Vin whispered.  “Had a knife.  Figured it was for… after.”

“To kill you.”

Vin nodded, still gazing out at the sky.  “Dropped it on the mattress.  By my head.”  Once again, he drew in a deep breath, then blew it out.  “I waited until he… He put my feet over his shoulders.  Grabbed ‘im and broke his damned neck.”

Nick sat stunned in the silence that followed that vehement description.  “W… with your legs?”

“Were the only part of me available,” Vin snapped softly.

The silence stretched as the older man contemplated the kind of grit necessary for a battered, traumatized man to perform such a feat.  Then he cleared his throat.

“Well, that takes care of Wiley.  His real name, by the way, was Wilbur Kaioti.  As in ‘Wile E. Coyote.’”

“Shot the other one.  Sniffer, I think.”

“Sniffer.  Edward Jenner.  Where’d the gun come from?”

The unfortunate lower lip was suffering again.  “M’ clothes was trashed.  Coat, tossed on the chair.  Pretty sure it was Whiney’s.  Didn’t want to run buck-naked on the street.  Gun was in the pocket.”

“So how’d that one happen?”

“Ain’t any too sure.  Was headin’ for the door.  Sorta crawling.   Heard ‘em in the hall, at the door.”  His eyes closed again, brow creasing.   “Panicked.  Couldn’t stand… got so far.  Felt the gun in the pocket.  Door opened ‘n’ I just shot.  Musta emptied the clip.”

“You did.”

“Blood all the hell over the place.”

“Any sign of ‘Ernie’?”

A crease formed between Vin’s eyebrows as he puzzled over the question.  “D’know.  Mighta been behind Sniffer.  Mighta heard ‘im yell, but I’m not sure.  Wasn’t exactly on top of my game, and don’t exactly remember too clear.  Wasn’t in the hall when I made it out.”

Nick was nodding.  “If it matters to you, I think you’re right.  We’ve identified four different blood sources, yours and Kaioti’s in the bedroom, yours and Jenner’s in the lounge room, and yours and a fourth in the hallway.”

Vin stared at him.  “And the fourth?”

“We’ve got a bunch of prints from the apartment, and I’m pretty sure some of them are going to turn out to be ‘Ernie’s.’ Give us a bit of time; we’ll find him.  Don’t suppose you can give us a description?”

“I’s pretty rattled up.  Head hurt.  Wasn’t seein’ too well, and the light really hurt.  Afraid I didn’t see much I could describe.  Just heard his voice.”  For a moment, he was silent, then a shudder swept over his body.  “He’s still out there.”

“He is.  And it’s possible that he knows who you are and where you live, as we found your I.D. in the apartment.  He might not have paid any attention, as it seems the other two were a lot more interested.  If we’re lucky, he has no more idea who you are than you do him.”

Vin’s head shook.  “Luck ain’t something I’ve ever had much of, Detective.  Shit.”

“We’ll find him.  In the meantime, let’s get this wrapped up.  Hard part is finished, Vin.  I’ve got to admit I’ve got a personal question or two about the rest of it.”

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you shed the coat?  You were about frozen when we found you.”

Another shudder shook the thin body.  “Had ta have it ta get home.  Then couldn’t stand to have the bastard’s smell on me.” 

Nick grimaced.  “I can certainly sympathize with that.”  He stared down at the younger man for a moment.  “The last thing, Vin… I know you don’t want to hear this, and I really don’t want you to think I’m sticking my oar in where I have no right.  I’m also fairly sure how I’d feel if I were in your position, and that I’d want to pop somebody like me in his pushy nose.  But I really hope you can find it in you to talk to someone about this.”

Vin’s body jerked slightly in reflexive denial.

“Vin…”  Nick leaned forward, wishing the other man would meet his gaze.  “I don’t know you—never met you before today.  But I do know this.  You’re a tough and courageous young man.  You may not think so, but what you did… it takes my breath away in admiration.  You’re feeling humiliated and ashamed.   It’s natural and understandable.  But you don’t deserve it.   I’m really hoping you can find that little bit of extra courage necessary to get the help you need.  This business…” he waved his notebook slightly.  “This law enforcement thing really needs men like you.  It would be a tragedy if we lost you because of something like this.”

No sound came from the bed, and Vin’s gaze remained stubbornly fixed on the blank wall.  But finally, his head bobbed slightly.

Sadly, Nick again squeezed the tense shoulder, then stood.  “Good luck, son.  I hope to see you back on your feet and kicking the stuffing out of the bad guys some time in the near future.”

The shaggy head turned, and slightly watery blue eyes looked up at him.  Another tiny nod.

Nick returned the salute, then slipped quietly out the door.

Part 11