Title-Deceptive Control!

Author-Winnie

Rating-T

Disclaimer-Still not mine, but fun to play around with.

Comments-Many thanks to Marti for reading along with this one and beta-ing it while she was at it. A special thanks to Jordan for that extra kick in the behind to get back to this one. Thanks to Antoinette for the great beta and to Pamela for the wonderful pic for my story.

Orin Travis looked across his desk at the man he'd known most of his life. Their friendship started in university and continued through the years, cemented by the trust they had in each other. Orin looked back at the six files on his desk. He knew Dr. Daniel Coburn was taking a chance bringing this to him, but he could understand his friend's concern.

"Can your organization help me, Orin?"

"I'll discuss it with Chris and get back to you, but I think we'll be able to help. Just leave it to me," Travis said.

Coburn stood up and reached across the desk, shaking hands with his long time friend.

"Thanks, Orin, Shady Acres is a wonderful institution and I'd hate to see it brought down because of this. I didn't know who else to turn to."

"Daniel, I'll be in touch with you as soon as we figure out what we're going to do."

"Okay, but don't call me at my office. I just don't know if it's safe."

Travis frowned at the idea of his friend going back to the sanatorium, yet there was no choice. He'd worked at Shady Acres since it opened nearly thirty years ago. The dark lines that now marred the tired face were evidence of just how worried Coburn was.

"Daniel, be careful. Don't do anything to draw attention to yourself."

Orin watched his friend walk to the door, before turning his attention back to the files on his desk. Six people were dead and no one seemed to give a damn. He pressed the button on his phone and waited for his secretary to answer it.

"Yes, Mr. Travis."

"Doreen, call Chris Larabee and ask him to come to my office right away."

"Yes, Sir," the line went dead and he opened the first file. A young woman's face looked up at him, sadness evident in the hazel eyes. Heavy scarring covered most of the right side of her face, and Orin knew she'd suffered extensive burns to cause such damage.

"Mr. Travis?"

"Yes, Doreen."

"Mr. Larabee is on his way up."

"Thank you, Doreen. When he gets here, make sure we're not disturbed."

"Yes, Sir."

Chris walked out of his office and smiled as six men turned to look in his direction. He knew they'd be curious about why he was leaving after vowing an earthquake wouldn't budge him until the files were updated.

"Hey, Chris, what's happening?" Wilmington asked, tapping a pencil on the papers strewn across his desk.

"I don't know anything yet, Buck. Orin wants to see me."

"Uh oh," Tanner said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Larabee asked, a smile on his face as he watched the tracker eating a cream filled donut.

"Well, hell, Chris, when Orin calls it usually means one of us is in trouble," Dunne said.

"I do believe now would be a prudent time for us to find a place to enjoy a pleasant repast before the voice of doom descends on all of us," Standish said.

"Voice of doom, Ez?" Larabee said shaking his head. "You boys go ahead and take an early lunch. I'll fill you in on what's going on when you get back here."

"Can we bring you something, Chris?" Jackson asked.

"Yeah, if you're going to that deli JD raves about I'll have a hot corned beef on rye," the blond told them.

"No problem," Sanchez said, watching his boss move toward the elevator.

"Well, Kid, looks like lunch is on you," Wilmington said, slapping the Bostonian on the back.

"On me? Why the hell does it have to be on me?" Dunne asked, grabbing his denim jacket from the back of his chair.

"Because it was your idea," Tanner answered.

"No it wasn't, Vin. It was Chris'," the youngest member of the team corrected as the six men headed for the elevator.

"Doesn't matter, JD, it was you who mentioned the great sandwiches the deli made," Jackson said.

"Ah, hell, we gotta stop at an ATM machine on the way then."

"No problem, Son, there's one on the way," Sanchez told him as they stepped into the elevator.

Chris entered Travis' outer office and smiled at the young woman seated there. "Hello, Doreen."

"Hi, Chris, you can go right in." She smiled and watched appreciatively as he walked toward Travis' door. She'd been married for five years, and dearly loved her husband, but nothing compared to the sight of Chris Larabee and the tight black jeans he tended to wear. 'If only Reggie could fill them out like that!' she thought, sighing as she turned her attention back to her work.

Chris pushed open the door and entered the spacious office. The decor was tastefully done in oak and soft, cream colored furniture. The desk was clear, except for a phone, a coffee mug, a desktop calendar, and desk organizer. Several files lay open in front of the older man.

"You wanted to see me Orin?"

"Yes, Chris, please have a seat."

Larabee moved to the soft leather chair in front of Travis' desk and sat down. He watched as the older man thumbed the files in front of him.

"Do you remember Daniel Coburn?" Travis asked, meeting Larabee's curious gaze.

"Think so. The psychiatrist you introduced us to at the New Year's Eve party?"

"That's him. You know we've been friends a long time?" Larabee nodded. "He works in a privately owned sanatorium called Shady Acres. He's been there a long time and helped a lot of people during his career," Travis explained.

"Is he in some kind of trouble?" Larabee asked, hearing the undertone of worry in his employer's voice.

"Not yet, but he could be if he's not careful. I just finished a meeting with him and he's asked for our help."

"What's going on?"

"Take a look at these files," Travis said and passed the folders to Larabee.

Chris opened the first one and looked at the name. Martha Collins, aged 27. He read through the papers describing her as a victim of an arsonist's fire, and placed in Shady Acres at the request of her mother. The second victim was male, Steven MacDonald, 43, extremely violent, placed in Shady Acres by his older brother. The third victim, Janet Mallory, spent most of her adult life in the sanatorium since being committed by her sister. Francis Jacobson was number four, aged 69, placed at Shady Acres by his children after having a stroke. Robert and Julia Slocum, victims number five and six, an elderly couple placed in the home by Julia's uncle after the two were proven unable to care for themselves.

Orin watched as the younger man studied the files. He knew Larabee was a tedious man and paid attention to details, a trait that saved his life, as well as his friends, on more than one occasion. He knew the blond had chosen his team well, and that they worked well together in spite of the age difference between the oldest and youngest members. He admired the way the seven men formed a tight circle of friendship that was filled with loyalty and trust. Nothing about this team surprised him anymore, yet he knew there were things they'd kept from him. He knew they thought of him as part of their family, but theirs was a brotherly group, and as such his fatherly image was often left out in the cold. Brothers could share things with each other that they would not share with a parent.

Chris placed the last file on the desk and lifted his eyes to meet those of the older man. "Alright Orin, what does this have to do with us?"

"As you can see those six people were patients at Shady Acres."

"Were?" Larabee asked.

"Yes. That's why Daniel came to me. Those six people died in the last seven months."

"I take it their deaths are questionable?" Larabee asked.

"Yes, Daniel says the deaths can be easily explained as accidents or natural causes, but we both know how easily that's done."

"What about the police?"

"There's not enough proof to get them involved. The autopsies showed nothing that couldn't be explained as natural causes."

"Is there anything to tie the deaths together?" Larabee asked, comparing the files once more.

"Not much. They all come from well-to-do families...'

Sandy blond eyebrows rose and sea green eyes looked up at his boss. "Money is always a good bet when it comes to murder."

"That's true, but why these particular six. Every patient at Shady Acres comes from money, Chris, so why would it only be these six and why did it start up suddenly with the death of Martha Collins?"

"What about their families. Anything suspicious there?"

"Not that Daniel could find out. He's been trying to figure out what's going on since the third victim was found."

"Janet Mallory."

"That's right. She was found in her private washroom, lying against the tub. It looked like she was getting out of the bath when she slipped and struck her head against the sink. One of the female orderlies found her an hour later when she was making rounds with the medications. Janet Mallory was showing signs of regaining her life and would have been released within a month."

"All right," Larabee said. "So we have a psychiatrist who seems to think there are six suspicious deaths, and it certainly looks like it."

"I'm glad you see it that way," Travis told him. "Chris, Daniel is a good friend and I trust him. I want to help him if we can."

Larabee simply nodded and closed up the files. "Well, there's nothing pressing right now, so let me talk with the others and I'll get back to you."

"Thanks, Chris," Travis said. "You can take the files with you to show them."

Larabee picked up the files and left the office. He nodded to the secretary and made his way to the flight of stairs. He hurried down to the floor where The Firm's offices were located. The door was open and he slipped inside, smiling as he heard his friends talking in the conference room. He moved toward the door and stood framed in it as he watched Josiah pass around the sandwiches.

"Hey, Chris," JD called.

"Uh oh," Jackson said when he noted the files in his boss' arms.

"Oh, hell, Chris, what's Orin got planned for us now?" Wilmington asked with a grin.

"You might as well sit and have lunch, Chris," Sanchez said.

"Yeah, man can't think on an empty stomach!" Tanner said, tapping his firm midsection.

"Shoot, Vin, guess that means you never think," Dunne quipped.

"What's that mean, kid?" the tracker asked, making his way around the table toward the younger man.

"I think Mr. Dunne is making reference to your voracious appetite, Mr. Tanner. If you're always hungry then obviously you are not thinking."

"Yeah, see, Vin," Dunne explained. "You're always eating so..."

"JD, I wouldn't if I were you!" Larabee laughed, placing the files on the desk and taking his place at the head of the table.

"JD, I'm not in the mood to patch you up today," Jackson said of the young man's penchant for joking around.

Vin tried to keep the serious look on his face, but lost it when JD turned toward him. The kid's face said it all and the tracker realized the young man thought he was serious.

"Come on, JD, it's time to eat," the Texan said and took his seat to Larabee's right.

Chris reached for the sandwich and coffee Sanchez handed him. "Thanks, Josiah," he said.

"Not me. JD treated today," the ex-preacher said.

Larabee turned to the dark haired youth and smiled. "Thanks, Kid."

"Yeah, thanks, JD," Tanner said, opening the wrap around the thick Philly steak sandwich.

A chorus of thank yous followed and JD felt great.

"You're welcome," he said and his eyes widened. "Since it was my treat and we're having sandwiches, I heard a new..."

"No!" Buck groaned.

"Aw, come on, JD, no more jokes," Tanner said.

"It's really funny..."

"That's what you always say, Son," Sanchez groaned, flipping the top off his coffee.

JD smiled. "It's short," he said.

"Real short?" Wilmington asked hopefully.

"Yep."

"All right, Kid, let's get it over with," the ladies man said.

"A sandwich walks into a bar..."

"Ah, hell," Larabee spat, knowing what was coming.

JD didn't miss a beat. "The bartender says... 'Sorry we don't serve food in here!'" Several groans went up and JD looked at each man indignantly. "What? That was funny..."

"Shit, JD," Tanner started. "That's gotta be worse than your three legged dawg joke."

"Mr. Dunne, it's time to do something about your choice of jokes," Standish said.

"But it's funny. You guys are just too old," Dunne told them.

"No, Kid, your jokes are just too old," Wilmington advised.

"I got more."

"Okay, Boys, how about we get down to business and make this a working lunch?" Larabee suggested.

"Hmm, JD's jokes or work?" Jackson said holding both hands in the air as if he was weighing his options. His right hand dropped and his left went higher. "No contest…work!" he said and heard the others agree.

"All right, Chris, what's going on?" Sanchez asked.

"Do you remember Orin introducing us to a man named Daniel Coburn?"

"On New Year's Eve?" Jackson asked. "He's a doctor isn't he?"

"Yeah. I seem to remember him working at some kind of institution," Sanchez offered.

"That's him…he asked Orin if we could help him," Larabee explained.

"With?" Tanner asked.

"Take a look at these and I'll explain when you've finished reading," the blond said, passing a single file to each man. The men read the files while eating their lunch in silence. By the time the files were passed around, the meal was finished and they were ready to find out what Larabee had in mind.

"Okay, Chris, what's this all about?" Wilmington asked.

"Coburn came to Orin because he thinks these people were murdered."

"Does he have any proof?" Standish asked, staring at the picture of Martha Collins.

"Not enough to take to the police," Larabee explained. "So far all he has are suspicions."

"I take it he wants us to find out if his suspicions are warranted?" Jackson asked.

"That's right."

"Guess that means we need a plan," Wilmington said.

Larabee stood up and paced the room, his right hand running through his hair. "I've been thinking about that. First I want Ezra and JD to find out everything they can about Shady Acres and its staff and clients. See if the victims have anything in common besides the institution."

"What about the rest of us?" Wilmington asked.

"We'll be working on a plan to go in undercover," the team leader answered.

"At Shady Acres?" Jackson frowned; knowing what could happen if they did go in.

"If Ez and JD come up with anything we'll have to," Larabee told them.

"Damn," the medic cursed softly.

"What's wrong, Nathan?" the scoundrel asked.

"I hate these types of cases. It means at least one of us is going in as a patient..."

"There's no choice." Larabee turned toward Ezra and JD. "You two get to work. Start with the six names we have. Once you've checked those out go back over the last couple of years and see if there are any more that are even remotely suspicious."

"On it, Chris," Dunne said as he followed the gambler out of the room.

"Alright, boys, it's time for a plan of action," the blond told them.

TBC