Trent was distracted. He was thinking about Jessie. Carlos and Sarah had been giving him updated reports daily and the news wasn’t good. She had completely withdrawn. Trent was wondering when he would get to see her when the guards came to take the inmates to the exercise yard. As Trent filed out of his cell, he was still thinking of Jessie and distracted. It was all that was needed. In a heartbeat, Trent felt the sharp sting as the sharp metal pierced his flesh. Instinctively, Trent whirled around without really seeing, and punched. It was only after the man hit the ground that Trent recognized him. He had broken the nose of Joey Carrera.

**

"Is he okay?" Sarah asked, expectantly.

"Yeah, I think so. They took him to the infirmary and gave him a few stitches. He broke the guy’s nose," Carlos told her. He had just come from Ranger headquarters and was filling in his girlfriend on the day’s activities.

"Who’s Joey Carrera?"

In Carlos’ mind’s eye he saw her. She was a raven-haired beauty named Rebecca and she had spelled trouble. "I’ll tell you about it later," he told Sarah, figuring it wasn’t the time to bring up other woman, and it would be impossible to tell the story without doing so. "We put him in jail."

Sarah nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. As Carlos sat on the couch, she took up the spot next to him. "Carlos, what are you going to do if…" She let the sentence hang.

"If what?" he asked. He was staring at the ceiling, knowing he wasn’t going to like where this discussion was going.

"They have the death penalty in this state, Carlos. What happens then?"

"It won’t."

"How do you know? With Alex prosecuting…"

"It won’t," Carlos insisted. As he looked over at Sarah it hit him like a lightening bolt. "You think he did it, don’t you?"

"Carlos,"

"No. Tell me the truth." He sat up and faced her, his eyes burrowing into her.

She looked away. "I think he was pushed awfully far. After Sam and seeing what was happening to Jessie, " she finally returned his stare. "We heard him say it, Carlos. I’ve never seen him that angry before and they still haven’t found the gun."

Carlos got up and walked over to her balcony window. "I have seen him that angry, Sarah. I’ve seen him mad enough to kill. I stopped him from killing Marshall Foley. He would have done it." Wheeling around he faced Sarah, standing his ground. "But he didn’t. And I think that he knew later it was the right decision. He wouldn’t do it, Sarah. Not intentionally."

‘How can you be sure, Carlos?"

He sat beside her again. "I’ve known him through the best and worst times of our lives, Sarah. I don’t know if I ever told you but Trent took someone’s life. It was an accident, when we were kids. It’s the reason he won’t carry a gun." A far away look appeared in Carlos’ eyes as he remembered that horrible incident, their friend dead. "He would never intentionally kill someone, no matter how bad. Marshall Foley was the exception and it was because Trent was blinded by grief. Grief for Sam, grief for me. I’m not saying Jessie doesn’t mean as much but he has been down that road before."

"What can we do, Carlos?" she asked quietly, wrapping her arms around him and sinking into his strength.

"Whatever we can, Sarah. Tomorrow, Gage and I are going to tear that house apart. Again."

**

Trent tried not to register the pain that shot up his left side with every step he took. He couldn’t afford to show any weakness. He knew there were more than one person gunning for him.

As he reached the visitor’s room, he was surprised to see a familiar couple sitting waiting for him. He smiled at them. "Jim, Eve," he said after picking up the phone.

"How’s it going, my boy?" Jim asked.

Trent felt a twinge with every breath he took but knew it wasn’t the time to tell the McNamara’s. "Okay. How’s Jessie?"

A shadow crossed Jim’s face and Eve looked as if she was fighting tears. "She’s still not responding to anything, Trent. That’s what we are here to talk to you about."

"I’m sorry, I’m not there to help," Trent offered. "But you know I’ll do anything I can."

"Son, I am eternally grateful that you saved my daughter’s life. Them holding you here is more the crime than what you did." Anger flashed in Jim’s eyes, barely contained.

"But, Trent," Eve said gently, "the problem is we can’t stay away from the farm much longer." She reached her hand out, forgetting about the pane of glass, almost startled when she hit it. "I’m sorry, but …"

The next words hit Trent like a club. "We’re taking Jessie home to Albuquerque." Eve kept talking, saying things about how they couldn’t leave her and how much help Jessie would get but Trent heard very little. His girlfriend was leaving because he wasn’t there to help her. It took a minute before his mind registered that Eve had asked him a question.

"Trent," she asked again, "Do you understand why we have to do this?"

Trent shook his head. Of course, he understood. He was in jail. Locked up. Behind bars. How could he help Jessie or anyone for that matter by being in jail? "Yes, Eve. I understand."

"Look, when this is all over, Son, you can come and get her. I’m sure she’ll be right as rain and ready to come back here with you, go back to working. I know that will be soon." It was unclear whom Jim was trying to convince.

Trent smiled sadly. "Yeah, Jim. Everything will be fine. Thanks for telling me."

Tears were rolling down Eve’s cheeks now. "We love you, Trent, and we know it’s going to work out. Just keep your chin up." She hung up the phone and ran to the door.

"She’s just having a little trouble…." Jim started but Trent nodded.

"It’s okay, Jim. Take them both home and take good care of them. I’ll see you real soon."

Soundlessly, Jim hung up the phone and turned to leave, not daring to look back at Trent.

Trent watched him leave, feeling numb. He didn’t even hear the guard approach until he put his hand on Trent’s arm. "Let’s go, Malloy."

**

"We’ve been over this before," Gage commented to no one in particular. He was back in Oates’ house, searching again.

"I know, but it’s got to be here." Carlos walked around, eyes peeled to the floor. His investigator’s mind told him something was amiss but it remained just out of his memory's reach.

"Y’all are looking for that gun, aren’t you?" Both men wheeled to find an old man standing at the back door.

"Sir?" Gage asked.

"The Gun. The one the vigilante guy said was here. Y’all are looking for it." The man had to be near eighty, with a full head of snow-white hair. Despite the cane in his left hand, the man stood proudly, confident. "Well you ain’t gonna find it."

As he glanced over at Gage, Carlos asked, "Do you know anything about it, Mr…."

"Grant. George Grant. I’ve lived next door for 40 years. I knew this one was trouble. Seen lots of them come and go, but I knew this one was trouble."

"What about he gun?" Carlos gently steered the conversation back.

"That other policeman found it. Yesterday."

Trying to contain his curiosity, Gage asked. "Are you sure? How did you know it was police?"

The old man laughed. "Just because I’m old, son, doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I saw him come in here, three-piece suit on. Looked like a FBI agent. I was about to knock when I saw him over there, pulling up that floor board." That’s what’s wrong, thought Carlos. The floorboard is out of place! "He reached in and pulled out a gun," Grant continued. "Tried to hide it when he saw me but it was a gun, alright."

The reality of this began to sink in to both Carlos and Gage. Someone had found the gun. That meant that someone knew it had been self-defense. The problem was who. And where was the gun now?

"Can you describe this officer, Mr. Grant?" Gage asked.

"Sure. Young fella like yourself. Bit taller though, with blond wavy hair. Didn’t tell me his name when I asked. But definitely, police cause like you, he had a key to this place."

"Thanks, Mr. Grant, this has been a big help. Can we talk to you again if we need to?" Carlos flashed a smile.

"Sure can. I live next door like I said. Can find me there most days. ‘Cept Fridays. That’s when I go bowling."

As Mr. Grant excused himself, Gage approached Carlos. "You don’t think it could be that investigator from Pitts’ office, do you?"

"Sure sounds like him. Think we better take a look at what has been logged into evidence." Carlos headed out he door, followed closely by Gage.

**

Trent looked around the courtroom, amazed at the amount of people that could be packed into it. He smiled slightly, acknowledging his mother, and older brother sitting a couple of rows back. He knew his mother would not allow his younger siblings to see and hear the trial and therefore wasn’t surprised by their absence. Sarah was sitting next to Tommy. He expected to see Carlos but knew he would be called to testify soon. Watching Alex conduct her opening arguments filled him with mixed emotions. He wanted to believe that Alex wouldn’t really do this but his eyes told him otherwise. Silently, he wondered what this would do to their friendship outside the courtroom.

**

"Okay, John, state how you met Mr. Malloy." Alex told him. John explained how he had seen the website on the news and was intrigued. When he went there he realized that it wasn’t the act the news said it was. He had watched Jessie’s ordeal and wanted to help her, telling in detail, how he came to find Trent. He was guided through the chronology of events expertly by Alex, laying out a complete and factual timeline for the jury. It was the last statement that was the most damaging.

"Tell me, John. What did Mr. Malloy say just before you traced the address?" When he hesitated, Alex coaxed him. Finally he spoke. "Trent’s exact words were, ‘I’m going to kill the fucker’." He looked over at Trent, his eyes expressing the sorrow he felt at having to tell the truth. He felt even guiltier, when he saw there was no malice in Trent’s expression, just resignation.

**

"Okay, they haven’t taken any of it out for court yet," Gage told Carlos as they stood in the evidence locker at Dallas PD. "If anyone asks, you were looking for the bathroom," he said with a smile, knowing few would believe the story. Despite the fact that Carlos had been a civilian for a few years now, he was still offered some leeway at his old HQ.

Both men worked quickly, examining all the evidence that had been collected. Carlos stopped when he found the Dallas newspaper. As he was about to put it back on the pile, his eye caught the fake story. "Shit!" The expletive flew from his lips.

"What?’

"Look. He planted a fake headline that Trent had been shot. That must have been what put Jessie over the edge!"

"Yeah, that would do it." Gage looked at he piles in front of him. "Unless it is invisible, I don’t see any gun."

**

It had been a long day and Alex was exhausted. It had been harder, much harder than she had thought it would have been not to look at Trent. What was she doing? Her job she told herself. She sighed heavily and was about to grab her briefcase when she heard someone clearing their throat behind her. Turning, she came face to face with Sarah.

"Hi Sarah," she said evenly. "I don’t know if you should be here."

"I wouldn’t be if it weren’t for Carlos." Sarah gave the impression she was trying hard to be civil.

"What about Carlos?" Alex motioned for Sarah to sit as she herself took the chair behind the desk. Sarah shook her head.

"Carlos and Gage found the gun."

Alex’s eyes flew open wide. "Where is it?"

Sarah’s face took on a hard smile. "That’s the problem. They have a witness who saw a policeman retrieve the gun but when they checked in evidence it’s not there. It wasn’t at forensics either." Her eyes met Alex’s.

Alex stared at her for a moment, the tension almost palpable. "You don’t seriously think I would hide evidence to help the case, do you?" Alex was shocked by the accusation.

"I never thought you would prosecute Trent, either." Sarah voice had a raw edge and the words cut Alex deeply.

"It’s my job," she said, feebly.

"Your job," Sarah spat. The control she carefully fought for was gone. "You, of all people know what Trent has been through, what he has done for this office. He sacrificed his wife, my sister for this office and this is what you do? Well, I certainly hope you can sleep at night, Alex. What are you going to do when your boss seeks the death penalty if he’s found guilty? Can you live with yourself then?"

Alex didn’t answer as her eyes welled up with tears.

"Did you know someone tried to knife him two days ago?"

"No," Alex whispered.

"Yeah, well I wouldn’t worry yourself about it." The vehemence was beginning to cool as Sarah registered the hurt expression on Alex’s face. "The person seen leaving the house resembles your investigator. Maybe you should take a close look and see what someone in this office might lose by losing the case against Trent." Sarah turned on her heel and stomped out of the office. Alex sat at her desk, listening to the echo of the footfalls down the hall. Slowly, she got up from behind the desk, making mental note to talk to Jacob Pitts in the morning.

**

The courtroom was filled again the next day. Carlos spent the morning testifying on behalf of the defense. His testimony discussed how long he had known Trent, what he had been like and what they presently did for a living. It was only when the prosecution started that the tension became noticeable.

Jacob Pitts stood up from behind the prosecutor’s bench, bringing himself to his full 6 foot, four inch height. He swaggered as he approached the witness box, smiling easily at Carlos. It was the smile of a snake about to strike.

"So, tell me Mr. Sandoval, you and Mr. Malloy have been through a lot together." He leaned on the wall in front of the jury.

"Yes, sir," Carlos answered, warily.

"Then I guess you won’t mind telling us about the night of October 23, 1999?" All the colour drained out of Carlos normally olive complexion. His eyes looked at Alex, but she avoided them.

"In what regard?" Carlos managed.

"Here, let me help you," Pitts smiled, turning on his down-home charm. "You had been kidnapped, beaten and held hostage by a man named Marshall Foley, correct?"

"Yes." Memories flashed through Carlos’ mind, images he would rather forget.

"How did this Mr. Foley know Mr. Malloy?"

"Trent worked for him."

"Why?"

"Why what?" Carlos asked.

"Why would Mr. Malloy work for the man that killed his wife?" There was a sharp intake of breath that seemed to come from every member of the jury.

"He was trying to prove he killed her." Carlos looked over at his best friend, sorry to see the pain of his own memories crossing his face. They both knew where this conversation was going and were completely powerless to prevent it.

"Why were you there, Mr. Sandoval?"

"Foley wanted to punish Trent by killing me, too."

"So, take us through the events, starting with Mr. Malloy’s attempts to get you out of Mr. Foley’s house."

Carlos sighed, looking over at Alex. Meeting her eyes, he nodded almost imperceptably. "I was beaten pretty badly, so Trent, ah, Mr. Malloy, had to almost carry me out. As we were escaping, I was shot. Trent eventually got to Foley and using his martial arts, rendered him unconscious. By then the Rangers were there and Foley was sent to prison with Trent’s testimony."

Pitts smiled again. "Yes, he did help send him to prison, Mr. Sandoval. But what I’m interested in is what happened between the time you were shot and when Mr. Foley was taken to jail."

"Sir?" Carlos knew he was delaying the inevitable. Again he looked at Trent, seeing only sadness in his expression.

"Tell me, Mr. Sandoval, wasn’t it true, and I will remind you that you are under oath, that Mr. Malloy here was going to kill Mr. Foley by breaking his neck, after he was unconscious?" The silence in the court was so oppressive it threatened to overwhelm Carlos. Again he looked at Alex. There had only been three people to witness Trent’s threat to kill Foley; Trent, Carlos, and Alex’s husband, Texas Ranger Cordell Walker. There was no doubt in Carlos’ mind where this information had come from.

"Yes," he finally muttered.

Pitts wheeled to face him. "I’m sorry, Mr. Sandoval, what was that?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

Carlos looked at Trent, apologizing with his eyes. "Yes, Trent wanted to kill him."

"And why didn’t he?" Pitts walked back over to the jury, obviously enjoying drawing out the melodrama.

"I talked him out of it."

"So if you weren’t there, Mr. Sandoval, he would have killed this unconscious, helpless man who he believed had killed his wife." It was a statement, not a question. As Carlos tried to comment, Pitts cut him off. "Were you there when he met Mr. Oates, the man who he believed had kidnapped and raped his girlfriend? "

"No, but that doesn’t mean…."

"Just answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’, Mr. Sandoval."

"No, I wasn’t there."

"No further questions, Your Honour."

The judge turned to the Cuban on the stand. "You may step down, Mr. Sandoval." She picked up the gavel, bringing it down quickly. "Court will take a 20 minute recess."

Alex glanced at Carlos, finding him staring at her. She was shocked to see the depth of hatred burning in his eyes.

.