The pair walked out of the police department to the visitor's parking lot. With one hand, Carlos shaded his eyes against the bright, late-afternoon sun, and stopped to look for Trent's familiar blue corvette. He didn't see it; a station wagon, a black pickup truck, and a white Ford Escort were the only vehicles in the lot. When Trent walked on towards the brown station wagon, Carlos remembered him mentioning that his younger brother and sister were in the car. Trent must have meant the station wagon, the family car.

'Well duh, he couldn't fit all of us in his corvette. What would he do, stuff one of us in the trunk?' Carlos thought to himself, laughing inwardly at the thought of himself trying to fit into the tiny cargo space of Trent's car. He followed his friend to the car. The blond man was already there, speaking with Tyler and Tandy Malloy, who had climbed out of the back seat. Carlos caught the end of their conversation as he approached.

". . .if you ask him nicely," Trent was telling his siblings.

"Ask who what?" Carlos questioned, looking from the young Malloys to their older brother. Eight year old Tandy looked up at Carlos shyly.

"Detective Sandoval, will you please sit in the back seat with me and Tyler? Pretty pretty please, with sugar on top? We've never met a police man before."

Trent smothered a laugh, and Carlos tried to keep a straight face as he watched Tandy do her best 'puppy-dog' impression.

"Sure, I think I can manage that."

"Yay!" Tandy danced ahead and climbed into the back seat of the car. Carlos was about to follow when he felt a tug on the back of his jacket. Turning, he found ten year old Tyler looking up at him.

"Will you show me your badge?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah, sure," Carlos smiled, and everyone got into the car. As the station wagon rolled out of the parking lot, Carlos was seated in the middle of the back seat. Tandy was latched onto his right arm, and her brother was happily examining his shiny gold-colored badge on his left.

"Detective Sandoval, what happened to your head?" Tandy asked, peering up at his face.

"I, uh, tripped and cut my forehead," Carlos replied, unsure whether the children knew about the break-in at their house that morning, "And you can call me Carlos."

"Oh. Okay. Does it hurt much, Carlos?"

"Not too much."

"Did you have to get stitches?" Tyler asked, giving the badge back to its rightful owner.

"Yes, but only a few." Carlos hung the chain of the badge back around his neck, slipping the insignia underneath the collar of his shirt.

"Can I see them?" The boy reached up towards the bandage.

"No, sorry, Tyler," Carlos gently pushed his hand away, "I can't take this bandage off."

"Oh." Tyler was silent for a moment, and then looked up again hopefully. "Can I see your gun?"

Trent looked up sharply from his driving, alarmed. Though Carlos couldn't see his face, the detective knew the expression that would be on it, one of fear mingled with a want to safeguard his little brother from things like guns and drugs.

"Uh, no, Tyler. Guns are only for policemen, not kids. You're smart enough to know you shouldn't play with guns."

"Aww," Tyler said, disappointed.

"Carlos, why are you sleeping in our storage room?" Tandy piped up again, still clutching his arm possessively. The Cuban laughed a little at her choice of words.

"There was a fire at my home. I'm staying with you guys until it's fixed."

"What caused the fire?"

Trent laughed to himself as the barrage of questioning went on. His brother and sister had seen Carlos before, and knew that he was Trent's best friend, but in a child's mind it was one thing to know that and a whole other thing to have a real live policeman sitting next to you and staying in your house. Carlos now had fans.

He pulled the car onto their driveway. They all climbed out, with Tandy and Tyler still hovering around Carlos. Trent finally gave in to his friend's 'Help me!' look, and called to his youngest siblings, "Hey guys, why don't you go find Mom? I think she mentioned something about baking fudge brownies earlier."

Nothing more needed to be said; the young Malloy children ran off into the house to find their mother and her brownies, leaving Carlos and Trent standing in the driveway.

Carlos shook his head as he watched them go, and Trent walked over to stand next to him. "Good coupla siblings you've got there, Trent. A little . . .inquisitive, but good," Carlos commented.

"Yeah. They can be a bit nosy sometimes. Don't be afraid to tell them when enough's enough, or else they can go on forever. You're the first policeman they've ever seen in person."

"Heh . . .I noticed. So were you picking them up from school or something?"

"No, they'd just gotten off the school bus when I was leaving earlier. They begged to come along; they *really* wanted to see you again. No doubt they'll go to school tomorrow bragging about the detective who's staying in their house and eating their mother's cooking."

"With all the time that I've spent at your house and hanging around with you, those two still didn't know me?" Carlos asked incredulously.

"Oh, they know you, alright. How could they not? They must not have known that you're a cop, but I could have sworn they've seen you in uniform before. When I told them I was going to the police department to pick you up from work, they got all excited and wanted to come so they could see you," Trent explained.

"Great, all I need are admirers!"

They laughed, slowly strolling up the driveway onto the huge front porch.

"I thought you were gonna be at the bar with Evans all afternoon?" Carlos asked in afterthought.

"No, when I went back there, a pair of officers had been assigned to guard him, so I just came home. Oh, yeah, that reminds me . . .Alex asked if we wanted to meet her back at the bar later. She's a little lonely, what with Walker being out of town. Do you feel up to going? I can always tell her you were too tired."

So much for Carlos's hopes of resting. They sat down in the wicker chairs that were on the porch.

"Yeah, I'll go, I guess. Walker's out of town?"

"Yeah, I think I mentioned it earlier. It's a long story . . ." Trent went on to explain the disappearance of the two Company E Rangers, Captain O'Reily's request for Walker's help, and the secrecy involved in the whole expedition. "And then when Alex showed up at the bar around eleven, she told me that O'Reily had caught a new janitor going through his papers in his office, possibly the security leak that had been feeding information to whoever's after the Rangers being sent into the mountains. She said there's no other way that those two rangers would have just disappeared."

"Well, if someone's doing anything even remotely illegal out there, I'm sure Walker, Trivette, and... Who'd you say it was, Pierce?. . .will catch them. They'll be fine, I wouldn't worry at all." Carlos rubbed tiredly at his face, knowing his friend was watching him.

"What about you?" Trent asked.

"What do you mean?" Carlos asked, feigning ignorance.

"Are you going to be okay? There's blood showing through that gauze again, and you're pale as a ghost. What happened right before I came into your office?"

"I'll be fine. It was nothing," the detective lied.

"Carlos, I'm not the only one who can't lie very well." He sighed resignedly.

"I don't know. Scott, Alex, and I were discussing the case, and I just got this . . . flashback . . . of . . .of *someone*, and now I can't even remember what I saw."

Trent didn't know how to console his frustrated friend. They both knew that memory loss, short and long term, was common with head injuries, and little could be done about it.

"Why are you working with those two now? That was them, right?" Trent finally asked, "They didn't seem half as bad as you described."

"Yeah, that was them." Carlos related to Trent the meeting with Captain Beckett, and of the truce that had been called. "So now we're working together. They really aren't acting like they used to anymore. I think Guidry might really regret giving out that information to the reporters."

"Well he should, after this morning!" Trent exclaimed.

"Yeah," Carlos agreed quietly.

Trent glanced at his watch, not noticing the weariness in Carlos's voice. Time had flown during their conversation . . .it was five-thirty! "I think my mom will have dinner ready by now. Shall we go in?" he asked, standing up.

"Yeah, sure." Carlos stood, and the two of them went inside in search of food.
 
 

At dusk, the trio of rangers was forced to stop for the night. It was getting too dark to keep moving through the dense forest, and, Walker had finally admitted to his partners, it was hard enough to follow the obscure trail left by Ranger Palmer in broad daylight, much less the murky moonlight that managed to trickle down through the thick canopy of leaves above them.

The spot they chose for their camp was just like any other part of the forest. Scrub brush grew in patches between the close trees, and low branches kept knocking Trivette's hat backwards. Off to one side, there was a small, open strip of pine-needle covered forest floor. That was where they would build a fire and spend the night.

Tonight, Walker showed Pierce and Trivette how to remove the horses' reins and bit, so they would be able to graze unhindered. Afterwards the three rubbed down the hard-worked beasts as best they could with the single damp saddle blanket and loosely tied the horses to a tree at the edge of the clearing. They left the reins, Trivette's saddle, and the saddlebags in the bushes near the halter-tied horses, and then began to set up their own camp.

"Hey guys," Walker called as he followed Jimmy into the clearing, drawing the attention of his partners, "Why don't you two get a fire going, while I go see what I can stir up for dinner?"

Pierce nodded as she dug through the saddle packs, looking for her radio. Earlier she'd unclipped the cumbersome object from her belt and put it in the packs, but now she needed it to report in.

"Alright, but don't be long. Be back by seven; otherwise, we'll come looking for you."

"Okay," Walker agreed. That gave him a little over an hour to hunt.

Finally Carrie found the small black hand radio at the bottom of the pack, buried underneath a coil of rope. When she stood up and turned around, she saw that Walker had already left.

Two pairs of eyes, hidden by the underbrush, watched Walker slip silently away from the camp.

"Pierce, could you help me with the fire?" Trivette called from the dim light of the clearing.

"Yeah, hold on," Carrie called back. She set the radio back on top of the packs, reminding herself to report to O'Reily later on.

Trivette was on his knees, scooping pine needles away from the center of the open clearing to make a safe fire circle.

"We need to find some wood for the fire, or else it's raw squirrel for dinner again," he said, brushing the dirt from his jeans.

"Alright, I'm coming. Why don't you cover that side of camp," she suggested, gesturing towards the right, "And I'll look on the other side."

"Work's for me."

Jimmy and Pierce spent the next half hour scouring the immediate area for firewood, piling their findings in the center of the open clearing between the trees. When they had enough to last the night, Trivette set about making the fire. Much of the wood was still a bit damp from Saturday night's thunderstorm, but he managed to spark a small flame onto some dry birch bark with his flint and steel. Fanning it, he added twigs, tinder, and finally larger branches as the blaze grew brighter and larger.

Pierce went back to the horses and their packs, while Trivette worked on building the fire, reclaiming the radio to report to her captain.

"Captain, sir, this is Pierce, do you copy?" she spoke into the receiver, kneeling in the bushes next to Wisp. The smoky gray mare whickered, shifting her hooves, and went back to grazing on the green spring grass.

"I'm. . .ere, Carrie. Wha. . ur status?" The gruff voice was hard to hear through the static.

"Still deep in the forest, sir. The trail is steadily rising, and I can feel the air getting a little bit thinner. We must be getting high into these mountains."

"Ca. . .alker stil. . find. . . . .'s tra. ks?"

"Yes, sir, but he tells me that it's getting harder to spot the trail, as though someone's been covering it up."

". .e careful, it. . ounds li. . someone may be track. . . . .ou. Have you ha. . . .ny more troub. . since . .e rock slide yes. .day?"

"No, sir, no trouble at all."

"Good. Re. .ort in tomor. . .before you. . et out again."

"Yes sir. Over and out."

Replacing the radio in the supplies, she looked up to see that Trivette had a bright red fire crackling in the center of the small clearing. She smiled, thinking how nice it would be to sit down in front of a warm fire in the chill night air. Maybe Ranger Trivette wasn't so unskilled after all. After checking on the horses one more time, she joined Jimmy by the warm blaze, waiting for their third colleague to return with dinner.

Walker quietly padded his way back through the underbrush, heading towards the orange glow of Trivette's fire, far off in the dark forest. In his hand, strung on a thin cord of twine, were two unlucky rabbits who hadn't reached their burrows before his hunting knife found its mark. They would make a good meal for tonight, and maybe there would be leftovers for breakfast tomorrow. He glanced at his watch and swore. It was seven thirty. He hoped Carrie and Jimmy hadn't left camp to look for him.

As Cordell approached the camp, he had the growing sense that something was wrong. It was silent; no owls hooted, nor crickets chirruped. He could hear the snap and crackle of the fire in the clearing, but none of the conversation that should have been there. He halted in the shadows outside the camp, trying to see the fire and his partners beyond. Instead of his friends, a scarred, mean-looking stranger stood next to the fire, holding a military issue rifle in his left hand. Jimmy and Carrie were nowhere to be seen.

Moving to the right for a better vantage point, the ranger's heel found the only branch that had escaped Trivette's search for firewood, hidden underneath a bush. A loud snap echoed in the silence. Walker cringed and froze, eyes intent on the stranger, searching for a sign that the man had heard. He didn't hear the second stranger steal up behind him until it was too late.
 
 

That evening, after dinner with the Malloy family, Trent and Carlos were getting ready to go to Uppercuts and meet Alex Cahill. Katie Malloy was cleaning up the kitchen while her youngest children disappeared into their rooms to do their homework.

Before he joined Trent outside, Carlos leaned into the kitchen's open doorway. "Mrs. Malloy?" he began hesitantly.

She looked up from loading plates into the dishwasher and wiped her hands on a towel. "Yes, Carlos?" she asked pleasantly.

"Um, after, uh, this morning," The detective glanced around to make sure Tandy and Tyler weren't within hearing range. Gaining a little confidence - after all, he'd known Trent's mother for years, hadn't he? - Carlos continued, "I. . .I can get a hotel room, or something. After the break-in this morning, with me here, your family is in danger, and I. . ." Carlos trailed off. He hadn't voiced his thoughts to anyone yet.

Katie realized what he was saying. Her face softened, and she walked over to the young man, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Carlos, that's nonsense. Your job puts us in no more danger than Trent's private investigating business, and we've always known that. You'll always have enemies, but you'll always have friends, too. But you also forget, I've got two black belts and one of Dallas's finest staying in my house, and between you three, I don't believe that any harm could get past the front door. The break-in this morning only strengthened that belief. Now, I have no intention of kicking you out; you're welcome to stay as long as you like. But don't go eating yourself up over this. What's done is done, and I'm glad you're not hurt badly. No one was killed, and that's all that matters."

Carlos bowed his head as her words sank in, color flushing his cheeks. He almost felt ashamed for even thinking that Katie Malloy wouldn't want him in her house anymore.

She smiled warmly. "It's alright, Carlos. It was very considerate of you to think of my family. You're always welcome here, whether you're a detective, captain, or dog catcher. Now get outta here, go relax and have fun," she ordered with a playful swat to his arm.

Carlos grinned. "Thanks, Mrs. Malloy. I'll see you later."

"'Bye!" she called as he went out the front door. Katie went back to cleaning the kitchen. She sighed. Sometimes she did worry about Carlos and Trent doing such dangerous work, but she tried not to dwell on it. They were both perfectly capable of defending themselves, weren't they?