William Reid stood looking out of his office window into the bright afternoon sunshine. The golden light mingled with black shadows from the office park's buildings. He studied the shadows, trying to keep his eyes off the sheaf of paper on his desk. Spencer knew shadows. William had seen them in his eyes. How familiar had his son become with the dark side of life.

He sighed and turned back to his desk. The pile of papers sitting in the center of his green desk blotter mocked him. Only three sheets of paper waited for his decision, as they sat there in the late afternoon light. Perhaps he didn't need to rely on the relative slowness of the postal service. May there was another way. He could just call Spencer and ask him for help.

He sighed again and pulled his phone out of him pocket. He looked at the keypad, remembering the day a few months ago when he'd decided to call Spencer just to say hello.

Saturday morning often found him studying briefs while Mrs. Cooper cleaned for him. He could hear the vacuum running around in his bedroom down the hall. The sound was oddly comforting as he usually lived in the silence that always accompanied those who live alone.

He pushed back from his desk, unable to stop thinking about his son. Six months had passed since the truth about Riley Jenkins' death had come out for better or worse. He'd written to Spencer several times, and had one short note back in acknowledgement. It had been about as warm as an answer to a catalog order, but William couldn't blame him. It's not as if William had tried to fix their relationship.

He pushed the speed dial he'd programmed in when Spencer had given him his number, a bit grudgingly, as William had recalled. Of course, he couldn't blame his son. He'd never done anything to warrant anything more then the brush off from Spencer.

The phone rang and his heart began to race. His head felt like it would explode as it pounded in time with the beating of his heart.

"Hello Dad!"

His breath caught in his throat. He lost the ability to speak.

"Spencer…"

"Who did you think it would be Dad?"

"I'm just surprised… I didn't think you'd-"

"That I would what… Answer if I saw your name on my caller ID. I'm busy dad! We're in the middle of a case right now. What do you want?"

"I'm sorry… I was thinking about you and wanted to know how you're doing."

"I said I'm busy…"

"Right… Well, I hope you're okay son. Stay safe."

"Not that you care… Father!"

The contempt in his son's voice cut him to the core. The pain made his heart race. "I'm sorry son. I didn't mean to bother you."

"Good-bye Dad!"

The connection broke suddenly as though someone had cut the line. Well… He had more then he expected with that small conversation. At least Spencer hadn't hung up on him or ignored the call altogether. It was a start.

William pulled out his phone and stared at it. How do you ask for help from the son you abandoned to life with a mentally challenged mother? He pushed the button anyway and listened as it went straight to voice mail.

"Spencer… It's your dad. I know I don't have the right to ask, but I really need your help. I'm into something big and it's attracted the attention of the wrong people. I know you're busy, son. Please just call me back if you can before five pm. I'll let you know a safe place for us to meet and talk."

He hung up the phone and went back to his desk. He'd send the letter off just in case his son decided to ignore his call. He might be on an important case that he couldn't leave. William knew he'd have to be patient.

He picked up the letter and slipped it inside a brown manila envelope with Spencer's name written on the outside. He packed up his briefcase and took the envelope out to his secretary.

"Charlotte… I know you're headed out early but I really need you to get this sent overnight mail to this address." He handed her the envelope and a slip of paper with Spencer's address at Quantico written on it.

Charlotte gave him a long-suffering stare. "I really have to get to my niece's piano recital across town."

"I really owe you one." He said with a smile even though a smile was the last thing he felt like giving at that moment.

"Alright… I'll get it to the post office."

"Thank… I've been called away. I may not be here for the whole week. Why don't you take the next week off? With pay of course," He said to her narrowing of her eyes.

"Is anything wrong boss?"

"No!" He said a bit loudly. "I mean, I just have to see to something in Reno." He said thinking fast. "I'll call you when I'm on my way back."

"Okay…" She didn't sound convinced and her mouth had pulled down in a worried frown.

"Don't worry Charlotte… I just have to see to something important."

"Okay."

He watched her collect her purse and leave. He managed another smile for her when she turned back one last time. Her coffee colored eyes didn't believe he'd be okay. He wasn't sure himself especially if he didn't get help from his son.

He locked up the office, wondering if he'd ever see it again. He wondered if he'd ever see Spencer or Diana again. He wondered how he had got into this whole mess in the first place.

-----

Music blared over the shouting and catcalls from the audience around the u-shaped dance floor. He watched intently as his favorite buxom blond pulled off her tiny sliver micro skirt. Her long tanned legs brought her closer to where he sat with several bills in his hand. He drank off the last of the whiskey in his glass and leered up at her light blue eyes.

She moved in as close as the law would allow, pushing her large upturned breasts in his face. She smelled like strawberries as he shoved the bills into her g-string. She smirked at him with scarlet painted lips. "Thanks honey," She said.

His phone vibrated in his pocket as she swayed in front of him like a snake commanded by a charmer. "Damn it!" He shouted.

He pushed out of his chair as he pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket. "This better be good." He said. His voice drowned out by the shouting and cheering of the crowd. Her routine had nearly finished and he had a voucher for a private lap dance with her. Now, because of his damn phone, someone else would get first crack at the bitch.

"What?" He barked into the phone as he pushed past the crowd made up of mostly men of all ages and a few women.

The smell of sweat, cigarette smoke and alcohol swirled around him all the way to the door. "Hey Bill, where ya goin' so fast." The bouncer called after him.

He ignored the bouncer and took the finger out of his ear he'd been using to block the noise. "I didn't hear you." He said into the phone.

"I told you to get out here now. I need you to take care of something for me."

"Man… Can't it wait until tomorrow?" He turned left and headed down the street to his car.

"No! He's not cooperating. We need to get a hold of what he's got before he goes to the press. The boss wants you to handle it personally."

"This time I get paid up front!"

"I'm hearing an ultimatum in your voice. You better watch your attitude!"

"I want my money up front. One hundred thousand dollars."

"I don't want him killed. Just take him out to the Hole. The boss wants him alive."

"I want the money in case I have to shut him up. I'm taking a huge chance. This isn't like the others!"

"Fine… You'll get the money after you take him to the Hole."

"I want -"

"Don't push your luck!"

"Alright… I'll be there in thirty."