FanStory.com - Spirited Justice - THE ENDby Begin Again

As Garth reached for the door handle, the temperature in the room dropped, and the lights flickered.

"What the heck?" Tango glanced around the room.

Garth chuckled, realizing that either Danni or Eleanor was about to appear. When Danni started to materialize, Garth grinned, "It's Eleanor's twin!"

Danni balanced two large cups of coffee in her hand as her body shimmered before becoming visible. She quickly retorted, "Eleanor's great, but I'm nobody's twin. I'm an original."

"I stand corrected." Eyeing the coffee, Garth inhaled the aroma and offered Danni his puppy dog eyes as he asked, "Is one of those for me?"

"Sure," Danni replied with a playful grin. She handed one cup to Garth and turned to Tango with the other.

Surprised, Tango grinned and asked, "For me?"

Just then, Donatelli entered his office with a stack of folders in his hand. His expression shifted from surprise to a smile. "What's this?"

Upon realizing the coffee was probably meant for him, Garth couldn't resist poking a little fun. "Oh, Danni was so kind to pick up coffee for Tango and me. She's the best!"

Not wanting Donatelli to believe Garth, she snapped her fingers, and two more steaming cups appeared, hovering in the air. "Thought you might need a pick-me-up before the interrogation." She handed a cup to Donatelli. "Here you go, boss. Just the way you like it."

Tango chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "You're welcome in our office anytime, Danni. Our office coffee is like drinking Mississippi mud."

Danni winked, her eyes sparkling. "Just let me know when you need a refill."

"You looked like you were going somewhere. Did you catch a break on the missing perp?"

"No, thought Tango and I might make a social call at the German Consulate. That guy knows more about William's disappearance than he's letting on."

"Can't say that I blame you — just remember, all Germans aren't related to Hitler." He set his coffee on the desk and flipped through some papers. "If you've got time before you go off to start a war with the Germans, Danni and I were about to interrogate Henry and Bryce. You are welcome to join us."

"Great! I probably should try to cool off before I face that guy again." He took a long drink of coffee, then opened the door. "Let's go see if we can break these two."

Donatelli laughed. "That's what he calls cooling off — breaking someone."

Danni laughed. "Oh, man, this oughta be worth the admission."

*****

Eager to get started, Garth led the way to the interrogation room. A slight frown replaced his earlier amusement. "You know, I've got a feeling we're not going to get much out of Bryce. Isn't he the one they labeled the enforcer?"

"Yeah, he might be a tough nut to crack," Donatelli replied. "My bet's on Henry. If we can get him talking, he might spill the beans on the whole operation."

As Donatelli and Garth entered the interrogation room, the contrast between Henry and Bryce was evident as hot and cold. Henry slumped in the metal chair, his face buried in his trembling hands. He hunched his shoulders as if he was trying to disappear and barely looked up as the door opened.

Across from him, Bryce — The Enforcer — sat with a completely different air. His body was upright as he leaned back in the chair with a cocky nonchalance, his arms crossed casually over his chest. A smug grin twisted at the corner of his mouth as he eyed Donatelli and Garth. His jaw was defiant, and his cold, calculating eyes flashed with arrogance.

Henry's breath caught as Donatelli and Garth approached the table while Bryce's smirk widened, almost as if he dared them to do their best.

"Gentlemen," Garth began, taking his seat, "we're here to discuss some serious charges."

Bryce leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms defiantly. "You think you can intimidate us with your fancy suits and badges? Good luck with that."

"Intimidation isn't our goal," Donatelli replied. "We're just trying to understand why your lives went off the rails and how it connects to the murders we're investigating."

"Yeah, right," Henry muttered, glancing nervously at Bryce. "What do you want from us?"

"Let's start with Arthur Beckett's murder," Garth said, his eyes narrowing on Henry. "We know you were both there that night. We know you were scared of Arthur and his blackmail schemes."

Henry fidgeted, his gaze darting to the table, but it was Bryce who spoke up. "Arthur got what he deserved. He was playing with fire."

Henry stammered, "I — I wasn't even there. Bryce — he was the one who saw Patti in the alley with the brick. Arthur was blackmailing everyone. Bryce figured it was the perfect time to — Henry hesitated, his gaze flickering between Bryce and the detectives.

"Finish him off?" Donatelli completed Henry's sentence.

Bryce scoffed but said nothing. He leaned back, clearly not ready to give anything away.

"And William?" Garth pressed for more answers. "Where does he fit in? He's behind all of this, right?"

Henry studied down at his hands, shaking his head. "William — he's slippery. He always had an escape plan. He's probably holed up somewhere by now. You'll never find him."

Bryce suddenly shifted in his chair, his eyes narrowing as if warning Henry not to say too much.

Garth leaned in closer, sensing a crack in Henry's exterior. "And what about Lila's murder five years ago? Was that also part of your little scheme?"

"Lila?" Henry's voice trembled. "That was before my time. You can't pin that on me!"

"But you know who framed her father, don't you?" Donatelli pressed, his eyes sharp as he studied Henry's reaction.

After a tense silence, Henry finally blurted out, "Arthur Beckett! He set everything in motion. He wanted Lila's father to take the fall to cover his own tracks. He was the one who killed her!"

Garth felt a surge of victory. "Interesting. And where was William during Lila's murder?"

Bryce shifted in his chair, his bravado wavering. "Probably in some tavern in Germany. That's where he used to hang out. The three of us weren't brought on until much later."

Henry was too far gone to stop now. "He always talked about some place in Germany, you know? A little town he's from originally. He liked to brag about how no one would ever look for him there. Said it was the perfect hideout. Rothen-something..." Henry snapped his fingers as if trying to recall.

"Rothenburg ob der Tauber?" Garth interjected, knowing the town well.

Henry nodded. "Yeah, that might be the one."

Bryce finally spoke, his voice icy. "You think William's a fool hiding in a tourist town? He's smarter than that."

Garth leaned forward, pushing Bryce's buttons. "And where would you hide, Bryce? Somewhere quiet, maybe? A tavern, tucked away where no one asks questions?"

Bryce's lips twitch, the slightest hint of a reaction. "If I were William," he says slowly, "I'd be far from any tourist trap.

As the session seemed to be winding down, Garth stood up. "It's been a barrel of laughs, boys. Hope you enjoy the accommodations." He turned to Donatelli. "Let's wrap this up. I need to pay a visit to the German Consulate. I have a hunch William's probably within their walls."

Donatelli clapped him on the shoulder. "Just remember, Garth, no unprovoked war with the Germans, okay?"

Garth chuckled. "I make no promises, but I'll try to keep it civil."

As Garth stepped out of the interrogation room, his mind raced with possibilities. There was no way he could let William slip through his fingers again.

*****

The SUV rumbled through the German Consulate gates, coming to an abrupt halt as two imposing figures stepped in front of it, blocking their entrance. Garth swiftly flashed his badge as one guard approached, his voice a low growl, "FBI Special Investigators. They're expecting us."

Looking doubtful, the guard radioed the house, but Garth didn't wait. He blasted the horn and drove forward as the men dodged out of the vehicle's way.

At the front entrance, he stormed up the steps, his shoulders squared and his eyes burning with fury. Tango took two steps at a time, trying to remain close behind. Both men approached wearing jackets blazoned with bright yellow letters — FBI. Their guns remained holstered, but their hands hovered above them, ready for whatever reception they might receive.

Neither man expected so much luxury inside.

The foyer of the German Consulate exuded an overwhelming sense of grandeur. The floor was a polished expanse of gleaming white marble, veined delicately with gray. A grand staircase with ornate wrought-iron railings led to the upper floors, adding to the majestic atmosphere.

Rich, gold damask wallpaper covered the walls, shimmering under the glow of crystal chandeliers. On either side of the entrance, tall windows framed by heavy burgundy velvet drapes added to the room's regal feel. In the center of the foyer, an ornately carved table held a vase of fresh white roses.

"Agent Woodman!" a consulate official rushed forward, blocking their path with a raised hand. His tone was commanding but trembled slightly. "You can't just —"

Garth pushed past the man with a firm shove that sent him stumbling back. Tango stayed silent, but his eyes swept the room, alert to any sudden movement. Garth's gaze locked onto the Consul General's office door. His jaw clenched.

A distinguished man—the Consul General—exited his office, adjusting his immaculate suit jacket. His smile was insincere. "Agent Woodman," his tone was a blend of politeness and condescension. "To what do I owe this—an unannounced visit?"

Garth clenched his fists, but he kept his voice low and steady. "You know why I'm here. William Bauer. He slipped through at the airport, and your people helped him."

The Consul General tilted his head with mock surprise on his face. "William Bauer? I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to. He wasn't on the embassy's flight, and as far as I know, we have no connection to him."

Garth stepped forward, inches from the man's face, his voice a low growl. "You expect me to believe that? Bauer's been orchestrating half of the chaos in this town, and you're telling me he just vanished into thin air? You're either covering for him — or you're incompetent."

The consulate official regained his composure, growling, "Agent, you are overstepping your boundaries. International law—"

Garth slammed his fist on the nearby side table, rattling everything. "International law! People are dead because of that man! Innocent people!"

Tango took a small step forward, preparing for whatever might unfold next. But the Consul General didn't flinch. His smile was snake-like, and his voice was quiet but dangerous. "Agent Woodman, I suggest you control yourself. You wouldn't want to cause a diplomatic incident, would you?"

The subtle threat pushed Garth even closer to the edge. His face flushed with anger as he lunged forward. Tango yelled, "Boss!" but rushed to his side.

At that exact moment, sirens blared outside, and Donatelli rushed through the door. His expression was tight, his eyes darting between Garth and the consulate officials. "Garth!" he barked, stepping between Garth and the Consul General. "Stand down."

Garth barely glanced at Donatelli, his jaw set. "So, they called in the calvary." He turned to stare at the official, snarling, "This guy knows where Bauer is. He's lying through his teeth."

Donatelli grabbed Garth's arm, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, "I get it. But this isn't the way. We don't have the leverage right now."

Garth's eyes filled with frustration as his fists clenched at his sides. His muscles tensed as if ready to explode, but Donatelli's firm grip kept him anchored. "Let it go. We'll come back with evidence."

The Consul General cleared his throat, his voice oozing smug satisfaction. "A wise decision, Detective. Agent Woodman, do remember that we are allies, not adversaries."

Garth glared at the man, literally spitting his words. "This isn't over."

Donatelli pulled Garth toward the door as Tango kept a watchful eye. Outside, Garth wrenched his arm free, pacing back and forth in anger. "We know they're involved, Donatelli. He's hiding something."

"I know," Donatelli sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "But we'll hit him with facts next time. And we'll bring the pressure. For now, we cool off."

Garth took a deep breath. "I'm not letting Bauer get away. I'll find him, and he won't escape again."

As they moved toward their vehicles, Donatelli turned to Garth, shaking his head. "What was that about? Do you think the consulate really helped Bauer?"

"I know they did," Garth muttered, rubbing his temples in frustration. "But I can't prove it yet. Something's not adding up."

"Well, there's always tomorrow, my friend. Tonight, we have a celebration to attend."

*****

The restaurant buzzed with laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft hum of conversation. The investigation team, including Donatelli and Jenna, mingled with the FBI agents, local police, and all those who played a role in cracking the case. Angelo and Naomi, in her wheelchair, sat near the window, gazing at the stars, grateful to be alive. Per Frankie's orders, a doctor and nurse were close by.

Garth stood off to the side, still mentally replaying his encounter at the consulate. His phone buzzed in his pocket. Glancing at the unknown number on the screen, he stepped away from the crowd.

"Woodman," he answered, his voice gruff and to the point.

There was a pause, and then a distorted voice spoke. "If you're looking for William Bauer, you're searching in the wrong place. Try a small town called Rothenburg. He's lying low, but not for long."

The line went dead before Garth could respond.

Across the room, Donatelli was deep in conversation with Jenna when he caught Garth's puzzled expression. He excused himself and crossed the room to join him.

"You look like you're still chasing a lead," Donatelli said, raising an eyebrow.

Garth chuckled but didn't meet his gaze. "Maybe I am. Something about this whole thing isn't sitting right."

Donatelli leaned in, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

Garth tapped the interrogation notes he was holding, a wrinkle of frustration creasing his forehead. "When we were grilling Henry and Bryce, they mentioned a town in Germany —Rothenburg. Didn't seem important at the time. But at the moment, it's the only lead we have. We've got to start somewhere."

Donatelli frowned, putting the pieces together. "And you think William slipped out of the country and went there?"

"Just got an anonymous tip that says it's a good place to start." He tapped the notes against the palm of his hand. "The consulate stonewalled me. This is the only clue I've got."

Donatelli sighed, running a hand through his hair. "So, you're heading to Germany?"

Garth smirked, finally looking at him. "Yeah. But not tonight. There's still time for a drink — and a dance with your cute little assistant."

"Good luck with that. I think Tango has cornered her."

"Then, I guess Eleanor's my date."

As if on cue, the music swelled, and the sound of fireworks exploding in the distance blended with the celebration inside.

Donatelli turned back to Jenna, a mischievous smile on his face. Jenna smiled warmly, her eyes sparkling in the soft glow of the night. Before she could speak, Donatelli gently took her hand, his fingers lingering over hers as if savoring the touch. His voice was low, almost a whisper, "Dance with me?"

She hesitated for a moment, but the warmth in his gaze reassured her. Without a word, she nodded, letting him guide her outside to the veranda. The cool night air kissed their skin, the faint scent of flowers wafting from the garden as fireworks began to light up the distant sky.

The soft strains of music floated in the background, the rhythm matching the steady beat of Donatelli's heart. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close enough that she could feel the strength beneath his calm demeanor. Jenna rested her hand on his shoulder, and as they began to sway, it felt like the world around them slowed, everything fading away but the quiet intimacy of the moment.

"You know," Jenna whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft music. I never imagined this was how tonight would end."

Donatelli smiled, his thumb brushing the back of her hand as they moved in perfect unison. "Neither did I," he admitted, their eyes locking. "But I can't think of a better way."

As they swayed, the fireworks above burst into brilliant colors, illuminating the sky in bursts of gold and crimson. The lights' reflection danced in Jenna's eyes, and Donatelli found himself mesmerized, drawn closer by something more than the night's magic.

He leaned down, his lips inches from hers, his breath warm against her skin. "Jenna," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "I —"

Before he could finish, Jenna closed the distance, her lips pressing softly against his in a tender and electric kiss filled with all the unspoken words they hadn't dared to say. The kiss deepened, long and deliberate.

Fireworks exploded overhead, casting them in a halo of shimmering light. When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Donatelli's voice was hushed, "This feels right."

Jenna smiled, her heart racing in her chest. "It does."

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world around them faded once more, and for the first time in a long while, everything felt exactly as it should be.

*****

Garth stood alone at the far end of the veranda, staring at the fireworks. Eleanor approached, gently touching his arm. He choked as he tried to speak, "I miss her so much."

"I know, but she's always with you, Garth." Eleanor patted his chest. "She's always in your heart."

He nodded, unable to speak. Eleanor waited patiently until he said, low and barely audible, "It's times like this that I don't want to go on. Life can just end, and I wouldn't care."

"Garth, you know that's not what she would want. If work is how you find the strength to move forward, I understand for now. But there will come a time when you'll have to let go. There's someone waiting for you, Cowboy."

"No one can replace Allie."

"Not replace — just add another layer of love to your story. Think about it. I know it's what Allie wants." Eleanor sighed. "And I think it's time for me to return to Charles, too. Goodnight, Garth."

"Goodnight, Eleanor."

He stared at the sky for a few more moments, whispered, "I love you," to his angel in the sky, and then dialed Tango's number.

"Get the jet ready. We're going to Germany."

There was a pause on the other end, then a confused, "Tonight?"

Garth smiled. "Yeah, and I hear they've got great beer there."

He hung up, already imagining his next move — tracking down William on foreign soil. His eyes scanned the celebration as he walked back inside, feeling the rush of the chase start to pump through his veins again.

This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.