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MASQUERADE

by Linda Hughes

"So whaddya think this is all about?" Detective Ray Kowalski glanced sideways at his Mountie partner.

Fraser closed his eyes briefly as his partner jumped his fifth red light. "I have no idea Ray, but it would be nice to get to the hotel in one piece," he grimaced.

"So what did the Ice Queen say to ya?" Ray asked an innocent expression on his face as he mischievously put his foot down slightly on the accelerator; the GTO lurched forwards. Dief barked encouragingly from the back seat; leaning forward he licked Ray's ear lovingly. "Way to go speed wolf," Ray murmured fondly.

Fraser sighed in exasperation at his two partners. "Inspector Thatcher told me that I would be reporting to Lieutenant Welsh for the next week, and that I was relieved off my consular duties until further notice," Fraser clutched his stetson tightly as Ray screeched to a halt at a junction narrowly missing a large truck. "What were your instructions Ray?" he squeaked.

Ray grinned at the Mountie's apparent nervousness. "Told me to swing by the Consulate to pick ya up, and meet him at the Meridien Hotel for some kind of special assignment," he answered.

The remainder of the journey was driven in silence as Ray manoeuvred through the heavy morning traffic. Parking the GTO in the hotel car-park, the partners walked swiftly into the reception area.

The reception area was magnificent with tall ceilings, ornate decorations and plush arm chairs arranged neatly. "Wow," Ray whistled quietly.

"I take it you haven't been here before Ray?" Fraser asked a small smile playing on his lips.

Ray favoured the Mountie with a dirty look. "On my salary. Yer kidding right?" he said.

Before Fraser had time to reply, the partners saw Lieutenant Welsh hurrying towards them. "Vecchio. Constable," he said as he stopped in front of them. "Follow me," he led them towards the elevator.

"So what's this all about?" Ray asked as he stepped into the elevator followed by Fraser and Dief.

Welsh pressed the elevator button, "You and the Constable have been assigned temporarily to the Mayor's office." Ray opened his mouth to protest but the lieutenant silenced him with a wave of his hand. "No is not an option Detective," Welsh said as the doors opened. He nodded to the two men standing outside the elevator, obviously on guard duty.

Ray shot a glance over his shoulder at the two men, then hurried to catch up with Fraser and Welsh. The lieutenant knocked on a door at the end of the corridor, and the men were ushered into a large comfortably furnished living room by a young woman, who immediately disappeared.

A tall distinguished looking man with grey hair turned from the window offering his hand to Ray and Fraser. "Good morning gentlemen. I am Lewis Shaw from the Mayor's Office," he directed them to the couch. "Please sit down."

Welsh sat down in one of the large armchairs. "I haven't had a chance to brief them yet Lewis," he said.

Perching on the arm of another chair, Shaw stared at the blonde detective. Ray shifted uncomfortably under the stare dropping his head studying his hands. Dief had flopped down over his feet, and he unconsciously ruffled the wolf's furry head. "It's an amazing likeness," Shaw muttered.

Ray became impatient. "Will somebody tell me and Fraser what the hell is going on here," he vented.

"Vecchio," Welsh warned.

"It's alright Harding," Shaw waved his hand dismissively. "Have you heard of a group called Jenifur?"

"No. Yes," Fraser and Ray answered at the same time.

Shaw chuckled to himself. "Well for those of you that haven't," he directed his gaze at Fraser. "Jenifur are an extremely successful Los Angeles based band. They are at present in the middle of a sell out tour of the United States and Canada."

"And this has what to do with us?" Ray asked impatiently.

"Well, they are due in Chicago this week to perform a series of concerts. They are also performing live on local television this Saturday in aid of the Mayor's favourite charity," Shaw started to explain. "Despite tight security and schedules being kept secret, their tour has been plagued by a number of unexplained accidents, and a month ago band members started to receive these," he handed Ray a piece of paper.

Squinting down, Ray examined the piece of paper. Letters cut out from various magazines and newspapers revealed a threatening message:

"CHICAGO WILL BE YOUR LAST DATE

THEN YOUR MUSIC WILL BE SILENT FOREVER"

"Are they all like this?" Ray asked handing the paper to Fraser.

"More or less. That one was received two weeks ago. Hand delivered to Jenifur's Manager," Shaw answered. "Then the notes starting getting really nasty and personal, aimed at one member of the band in particular. This one arrived this morning."

Ray took the offered note. After studying it for a moment, he handed it to Fraser. The chilling note read:

"BILLY WILL DIE IN CHICAGO"

"Before this one, there were a couple saying that Billy is damned. Billy must die. You know the kind of thing," Shaw continued to explain.

"I assume that there are no leads as to who is sending these notes," Fraser asked.

Shaw turned his attention to the Mountie. "No. We've checked out all the band members, their contacts, families, past histories. All dead ends. The band didn't really take things seriously until the accidents started happening when they were in Dallas. You know minor things at first. Faulty equipment that sort of thing. Then the notes started. These last few have really rattled their manager. Jenifur is worth a lot of money to him," Shaw explained. "And from our point of view, the Mayor is keen that the band is safe while they are visiting Chicago."

"So where do we come in?" Ray asked looking from Welsh to Shaw. "Security detail right?"

"Well sort of," Welsh started to say squirming in his chair.

Shaw interrupted the lieutenant with a wave of his hand. "The last three notes are a direct threat to one of the band. And he just happens to be coming ahead of the rest of the band to do television and radio interviews. Although security has been tightened up, we want you to take his place on occasion. Just as a precaution."

"What?" Ray squeaked jumping up starting to pace the floor.

Welsh stood up. "Constable Fraser will be your back up. I knew you would only trust him so I had him officially seconded to the CPD for the duration of Jenifur's visit to Chicago," Welsh explained.

Shaw regarded the blonde detective. "You know the drill Detective. You go in the front door, he's smuggled in the back way. And with any luck, we'll have caught the perp before you have to take his place on stage."

Ray whirled on the tall man. "Yer kidding right?" he said incredulous. "I listen to music. But that don't make me an expert. I can't even sing," Ray continued to protest.

"I've heard you sing." Fraser interrupted. "You have quite a nice singing voice."

Ray glared at the Mountie. "Frase," he threatened. Turning his attention back to Welsh and Shaw. "Anyways, it's going to be difficult to pull it off. Ya said yerself that Jenifur is successful. Aint the fans going notice?" he started to pace the floor again, his back to the door.

The door opened and two men entered the room. Fraser's mouth dropped open in astonishment. "I don't think we will have a problem," he stuttered quietly. Welsh smirked at the Mountie's uncharacteristic speechlessness.

"What?" Ray whirled to scowl at his partner and came face to face with a mirror image of himself. Despite himself, he stepped back in surprise staring his mouth dropping open.

"Let me introduce you," Shaw hurried forward. "This is Aaron Blake, Jenifur's manager, and this," he indicated the other tall, slender blonde haired man. "Is Billy Tallent, lead guitarist with Jenifur." Dief growled low in his throat; he sensed that this man was not his favourite American. The two men stepped back in alarm.

"Diefenbaker," Fraser scolded. He stepped forward offering his hand. "I must apologise for Diefenbaker. He is sadly lacking in manners on occasion. I am Constable Benton Fraser, and this is Ray Vecchio," he indicated his silent partner.

Warily eyeing the wolf and ignoring the Mountie's offered hand, Billy Tallent looked Ray up and down his pale eyes narrowed. "So you're going to be me?"

The blonde detective shook himself. "Looks like it," Ray shrugged dismissively.

Taking out a packet of cigarettes, Billy lit himself one. "Suppose you'll have to do," he blew the smoke in the slender detective's direction. "Do you play guitar?" Billy asked.

Ray bit his lip in an effort to control his temper. "Nah. Not a note," he admitted silently trying to ignore the cloud of smoke.

Billy raised his pale eyes upwards in exasperation turning his manager. "This aint gonna work Aaron," he snapped. "He sorta looks like me, but that aint enough. I told you we should have hired some heavier muscle," he stared at Ray. "And he aint got no style."

Ray glared at Billy, his temper finally getting the better of him. "Fraser and I happen to be good at what we do. Yer ass is safe with us," he said angrily.

Billy turned his attention to Fraser pointing at his red serge with his cigarette. "Aint seen one of those since I was a kid back in Canada. Makes a good target," he said.

Before Ray could reply, Aaron Blake stepped forward putting his hand on Billy's shoulder. "I am sure it will be OK Billy. Don't worry," he assured. "I'm sure Detective Vegan and the Constable know what they are doing."

"Vecchio," Ray said angrily. "It's Vecchio." Dief had moved to his friend's side lightly touching his leg with his side in support.

Aaron waved his hand dismissively. "Whatever," he pushed Billy towards the couch. Slumping down, Billy continued to scowl at Ray as he stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray.

Ray took a step forward, but Fraser seeing the angry look on his partner's face moved forward putting a calming hand on his partner's shoulder. "Ray," he whispered. "Calm down."

Ray sagged in defeat knowing that the Mountie was right, as always. Welsh had also moved over to the partners. "Well Lewis," he nodded to the tall man. "We'll leave you to brief Mr. Blake on the agreed arrangments."

"Thank you for coming over Harding," Shaw offered his hand warmly shaking the lieutenant's hand. He nodded at Ray and Fraser.

"No problem Lewis," Welsh replied. "Constable Fraser and Detective Vecchio will be back to accompany Mr. Tallent to his first television interview tomorrow morning," he started to usher the partners to the door.

Fraser looked over his shoulder; Billy was lounging on the couch smoking his second cigarette. "Later," Billy glared at Ray. Fraser pushed his partner out of the door before the slender detective could retaliate.

**************

Welsh and Fraser sat watching Ray stalk around the lieutenant's office waving his hands expressively in the air. He was mumbling to himself as he circled the office. He stopped occasionally to glare out of the office window, then resumed his pacing.

Diefenbaker had given up following his friend around the room, and was now sitting comfortably between Fraser and the lieutenant.

Welsh looked at the Mountie grinning. "Expressive, aint he?" he said quietly.

"Quite so Lieutenant," Fraser replied smiling back.

Welsh smiled. "Do you think we should stop him before he gets dizzy?" he asked as he stood up and moved to sit behind his desk.

Fraser nodded standing up. "Ray. Ray. Ray," he said loudly. "Ray."

"What?" Ray spun round looking from Welsh to Fraser; they were both grinning. He placed his hands on his hips. "What's so funny?"

"Well, " Fraser coughed. "You are actually Ray."

Ray narrowed his eyes at the Mountie shaking his head. He ran his hand through his blonde hair, making it even more wild looking. "Hardy ha ha. Funny guy," he cried. He slumped down on the couch a sulky expression on his face. "Ya don't have to pretend to be some stupid punk rocker."

Fraser cocked his head to one side, his expression puzzled. "Well, I am not entirely sure what a punk rocker is, but I am sure you will make an excellent one," he said.

Ray favoured the Mountie with a dirty look. "Well ya take his place then, and I'll cover yer ass," Ray replied sullenly.

"Ray. I don't look anything like Mr. Tallent," Fraser said patiently. "You do."

Ray jumped up angrily. "I don't look like Vecchio, but I'm stuck being him," he cried starting to pace the office again.

"Ray....," Fraser started to say.

"Don't say it Frase," Ray pointed his finger angrily at the Mountie. "Don't say calm down." Fraser stared placidly at his partner. Ray's shoulders slumped as his anger subsided. "When can I be me again?" he whispered. Welsh and Fraser stared at the blonde detective in surprise. Ray looked from one to the other; turning on his heels he stormed out of the office heading towards the break room. Dief jumped down from the couch, barked and trotted off after the slender detective.

"I'll talk to him," Fraser said opening the door. Lieutenant Welsh nodded picking up a file to study.

**************Fraser found his partner in the small break room. He was nursing a cup of coffee with one hand, his head dropped downwards staring distractedly at the muddy liquid. Fraser smiled to himself as he sat opposite his partner. Dief was under the table, his head resting lightly on the detective's lap; Ray's other slender hand was unconsciously fondling the wolf's nose.

"Sorry Frase," Ray brought his head up to look at his partner. "Didn't mean to snap at ya. I know Vecchio is yer friend."

"You're my friend as well," Fraser patted his hand. Ray looked up smiling at the Mountie. "It's alright Ray," Fraser said. "And I understand."

"No I don't think ya do," Ray dropped his head back to study his now cooling coffee. "Sometimes I just..... just sorta want my life back. It sucked big time, but it was mine. I get so tired sometimes of being someone.... someone else."

"I'm sorry Ray," Fraser replied quietly not knowing what else to say.

"Not yer fault Frase," Ray smiled thinly standing up sighing heavily. "Suppose I'd better study the file on this guy if I'm gonna be him." Fraser nodded following his partner out of the break room.

**************

They were due at the television studio at 7.30 a.m. so Fraser stayed overnight at Ray's apartment. Ray had been unusually quiet all evening and had gone to bed early. Fraser had lain awake on the couch listening to his partner toss and turn. Fraser was making a pot of coffee as his partner came out of the shower, Dief at his heels.

"Good morning Ray," he smiled at his partner.

"Frase," Ray replied yawning.

"That package arrived for you this morning," Fraser indicated a large wrapped box lying on the couch. At his partner's puzzled look. "Apparently, it's a copy of the clothes that Mr. Tallent will be wearing this morning."

"Greatness," Ray replied unenthusiastically. "Not only can't I be me, I have to wear his clothes."

He walked towards the bedroom with the box. "Least they didn't make me wear Armani suits," he slammed the bedroom door.

"Oh dear," Fraser whispered to Dief, who whined in response.

**************

The partners drove in silence to the Meridien Hotel. Nodding to Huey and Dewey, who were waiting patiently in the hotel corridor, Fraser and Ray quickly made their way to the hotel suite. Aaron Blake opened the door ushering them into the room. "Billy will be out in a moment," he said. "Sit down." He stared at Ray, who was dressed in black jeans and shirt neatly tucked in. His blonde hair was neatly spiked, and he wore his sun glasses; a heavy black coat completed his transformation.

"Thank you kindly," Fraser replied sitting on the couch. Ray continued to stand by the door, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat.

The bedroom door opened; Billy Tallent joined them, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth; he was dressed identically to Ray. Fraser drew in a breath at the similarity between the two men. He knew, however, that the resemblance was only skin deep; the two men were completely different in character. Billy Tallent was outwardly confident and completely self-absorbed, but displayed an air of remoteness. Ray Kowalski, on the other hand, was uncertain of his abilities but unfailingly generous with his friendship and emotions. Fraser noted, however, that they both displayed a vulnerability that they hid well behind identical pale blue eyes.

"Here," Billy threw a black cowboy hat towards the slender detective. "I usually wear one of these."

Ray caught the hat twiddling it a circle between his hands. "It works this way. Ya and Fraser go with Huey and Dewey out the back of the hotel. I go out the front with Blake in the limo," Ray instructed quietly his hand on the door handle. "We've already got men checking everyone in and out of the studio. Ready." He scowled to himself placing the hat firmly on his head.

"Billy. Your rings," Aaron instructed. "If the detective here is going in the front door at the studio, the fans will notice he isn't wearing the rings."

Billy scowled. "Aaron," he protested.

Blake shot him a threatening look; Billy reluctantly removed the ornate rings from his fingers handing them to Ray, who equally reluctantly pushed them onto his slender fingers.

"I want them back as soon as we're in the studio," Billy snapped. "They are of sentimental value."

"I'll try not to lose them," Ray shrugged grinning mischievously waggling his fingers. "Ready now," he asked as he opened the door.

As Billy passed Ray. ""Looks much better on me," Billy whispered placing an identical black hat on his blonde head.

Ray bit back a retort; the jerk was only in Chicago for a week. "I can do this. I can do this," he repeated to himself as he walked towards the elevator followed by Aaron Blake.

**************

Ray stared distractedly out of the limo window at the familiar streets of Chicago. Except he didn't seem familiar to himself; he hated the clothes and especially the hat. His thoughts were interrupted by Aaron Blake.

"Cigarette?" Aaron asked offering the packet.

Ray shook his head. "Nah. Don't smoke," he answered returning to stare out of the window.

Aaron shrugged lighting up his cigarette. "Only thing you haven't got in common with Billy," he said.

"We just kinda look the same," Ray protested. "Don't mean we're the same."

Aaron put his hands up in mock surrender. "Billy don't mean no harm, you know. It's just that these notes have him rattled. He won't admit it, but he's afraid," he replied taking a puff of his cigarette.

Ray regarded the man for a moment. "So is he as good as they say?" he asked.

Aaron chuckled. "Better than they say. Best thing that happened to Jenifur," he replied. "Although we had a bit of trouble getting him. Had a sort of unwritten commitment to another band."

"Hard Core Logo," Ray said. At Aaron's surprised expression. "It was in the file. But I had already heard of them. They formed in 1978, made seven records, played about 1000 shows, broke up in 1991. Then did some sort of revival tour back in 1995. Then silence."

"I'm impressed Detective Vecchio," Aaron chuckled again. "Billy was wrong. You do know what you are doing, and you did your homework."

Ray's reply was interrupted as the limo drew up at the entrance to the television studio. He peered out of the window; a group of 30 or 40 people stood huddled around the entrance apparently waiting for their arrival. The driver opened the door for him and he stepped out onto the pavement. He heard someone shout Billy's name, and the group of fans started towards him. He froze wondering what to do; Aaron stepped up taking him firmly by the elbow moving him towards the door. A uniformed officer held the door open as Ray was jostled and pushed by the fans as they tried to grab his arm and coat.

Once safely behind the locked doors, Ray leaned against the wall breathing a sigh of relief. "Remind me not to become a rock star," he said quietly as Fraser and Dief arrived at his side.

Fraser grinned at his partner. "Understood."

Ray straightened up moving his neck from side to side. "Any problems Frase?"

"No. Mr. Tallent is safe and ready for his interview. This way," he lead his friend towards the studios, Dief trotting behind them. Billy and Aaron were waiting for them. Detectives Huey and Dewey stood to one side scanning the audience and the surrounding area.

"Rings," Billy demanded holding his hand out towards Ray. Ray bit back his temper as he handed the rings back to their owner. "Aaron," Billy said stalking off towards the interviewer.

"Be right there Billy," Aaron called. Turning to Fraser and Ray. "This was handed to me by the receptionist as we came in. I haven't opened it," he handed Ray a plain white envelope with "Aaron Blake" neatly typed on the outside. Ray carefully took the envelope slitting it open with Fraser's offered pen knife. Fraser and Aaron looked over Ray's shoulder as he read the note:

"BILLY WILL DIE HERE TODAY"

Ray motioned to Huey and Dewey to join them. Showing them the note. "Has everyone been checked in and out?" he asked.

"Uniform on the front and back are on it," Huey replied. "The place has been sealed tight since 3.00 a.m. this morning."

"Right nobody gets in or out without my say so," Ray said handing the note to Huey. "Get this back to the precinct. Let the lab boys go over for fingerprints." He turned to look at Aaron, who had visibly paled on reading the note. "Right get Billy over here now. I'm taking his place for the interview."

"Do you think that's wise?" Fraser asked concern showing in his voice as Aaron hurried off to get Billy.

"Some nut is gonna kill the jerk today. Ya got a better idea?" Ray asked his hands on his hips.

"Well no. But....," Fraser started to say.

"And the Lieutenant will have both our heads if that happens," Ray interrupted shrugging out of his coat. He removed his shoulder holster. "Here," he handed the holster to Fraser.

"Ray. I am not licensed to carry a gun in the United States," Fraser hesitated.

Ray raised his eyes in exasperation. "Frase. Just put the holster on. I am not asking ya to shoot anyone," he declared. "I can hardly do an interview wearing a gun."

"I suppose not," Fraser reluctantly took the offered holster shrugging it over his shoulders. It felt strange to him, and he quickly put his coat over the top of the holster.

"Or these," Ray unhooked his handcuffs handing them to the Mountie, who pocketed them.

Aaron lead Billy over to the partners; the two men appeared to be arguing. As they approached the slender detective, he held his hand out. "Rings," Ray demanded in the same tone Billy had used to him.

Billy narrowed his eyes at the blonde detective, peering over the top of his sunglasses. "Now just a minute. Just who the hell do you think you are?" he shouted.

"The guy who's gonna save yer skinny ass," Ray responded. "Now gimme the rings," he held his hand out again. Billy reluctantly removed the rings handing them over to Ray once again. "Now Frase, ya and Aaron keep him back here until after the interview."

"Understood," Fraser replied pulling the two men back into the studio shadows.

Ray took a deep breath and started forward; Billy stepped up to him. "Don't make me look bad," he hissed. Ray ignored the blonde man, and Aaron cast him an apologetic look as he made his way towards the television set.

Fraser watched from the shadows as Ray sat nervously waiting to be interviewed. Ray looked his way, and he gave him a thumbs up signal. The lights suddenly dimmed and the recording light came on. Fraser noticed Dewey and uniformed officers stationed at various points searching the audience for signs of trouble, remaining vigilant. Fraser turned his attention back to his partner, who was just being introduced by the interviewer. He glanced sideways at Billy, who was staring at his partner his mouth open in surprise as Ray mimicked his expressions and gestures smoothly and easily.

Fraser leaned over. "He's rather good, isn't he?" he smirked.

"He's...... he's just so me," Billy stuttered looking at the Mountie.

Aaron chuckled from behind them. "I told you that he had done his homework Billy."

Fraser smiled to himself pleased directing his attention back to watching Ray. He heard a gasp from behind him as the interviewer produced a guitar handing it to his partner. "Oh dear," Fraser murmured.

Ray took the guitar trying to disguise the panic he felt inside. A shout from the back of the audience made him look up.

"William Boisy," the voice shouted. "Die." A shot rang out. Pandemonium broke out as the audience started to scream in terror. Another shot rang out. Uproar reigned as people started to get up scrambling in panic for the exits. Dewey and the uniformed officers fought their way through the frightened crowd to the back of the studio, guns drawn searching frantically for the shooter.

Ignoring a shout of protest from Aaron Blake, Fraser grabbed Billy and pulled him towards the set. Dief at his heels, he ran towards his partner, who was kneeling at the side of the interviewer. Ray looked up shaking his head; the man was dead, the side of his head shattered by a bullet. "Are you alright Ray?" Fraser asked worried.

Grabbing the heavy coat from the back of the chair. "Yeh. Fine Frase. Come on," he urged the Mountie. Fraser grabbed Billy, who was staring at the dead man. His face was deathly pale, and he looked like he was going to be sick. Disregarding the man's discomfort, Fraser followed Ray towards the back of the studio dragging the protesting guitarist down the corridor towards a fire exit. Seeing Dewey's car, Ray headed towards it knowing it would be unlocked. Fraser pushed Billy into the back seat with Dief, and slid into the front next to his partner. Fiddling under the dash board, Ray hot wired the car. The engine roared into life, and Ray rammed it into gear screeching out of parking lot into the busy rush hour traffic.

"Hey. Where are we going?" Billy protested from the back seat.

Ray half turned. "Keep quiet and keep down," he snarled as he pushed his foot down on the accelerator. He headed towards the city limits.

"Ray," Fraser questioned glancing sideways at this partner.

Ray stared ahead at the road. "We're gonna get outta the city for a couple of days. I know a place up in the hills. We'll be safe there while we work out what to do."

"But Lieutenant Welsh," Fraser started to protest.

Ray sighed heavily. "We'll call him later. Our job is to keep him safe," he jerked his head towards the back seat. "And it's kinda obvious even to this Chicago flatfoot that we might just have a leak somewhere," he said.

"Ray. We don't know that," Fraser declared calmly.

"Oh yeah. We had the television studio stitched up tight, but the shooter still got in," Ray said. "He even hand delivered a note. How do ya think that happened?"

"Well, alright. May be we do have a problem," Fraser conceded.

"So we do as we always do...," Ray started to say.

"Trust each other," Fraser finished.

**************

After two hours driving, Ray turned the car off the main road stopping at a small store. He handed Fraser his cell phone and a map. "Call the Lieutenant. Tell him where we're headed," he said pointing at an area on the map.

Fraser made the call while Ray was in the small store. He returned ten minutes later a bag under his arm which he stowed in the trunk. Sliding back behind the wheel, Ray gunned the engine heading deeper into the hills. Turning off the road again, he drove carefully up a bumpy track stopping after half an hour outside a small cabin. Fraser slid out of his seat, pushing the seat forward to let Billy and Dief out of the back. Ray was leaning against the car having retrieved the bag from the trunk carefully placing it on the roof. Dief was standing by his friend, and barked loudly at Fraser to get his attention.

Billy stretched his long body, reaching high into the sky with his arms. "So where are the dancing girls?" he asked.

Fraser scowled at the slim man. Billy pulled a face, and Fraser ignored the look turning his attention to his partner. Ray was still leaning against the side of the car. Fraser frowned; he hadn't noticed before that his partner looked extremely pale. Concerned he hurried around to his friend's side. "Ray. Are you alright?" he asked. Ray waved an arm in the air dismissively; Fraser observed that his partner's other arm was hanging loosely by his side. "Ray," he said alarmed noticing that the slender hand was blood soaked.

"I'm good," Ray said as he pitched forward into the Mountie's arms.

"Hey. What's wrong with him?" Billy asked.

"I think he's been shot," Fraser replied lifting his friend gently into his arms. "Get the bag and open the door," he ordered. Too surprised at the Mountie's tone to argue, Billy complied grabbing the bag and hurrying up the steps to the cabin to open the door. Fraser carried Ray through the living area into the bedroom. Pulling the bedspread back, he gently lay his friend on the bed. Fraser carefully removed the heavy black coat gasping at the blood soaked sleeve of his partner's shirt. "Find some towels now," he instructed Billy.

Billy hurried towards the small kitchen in search of some towels. "Is he going to be OK?" he asked handing Fraser the towels he had found. Fraser had ripped the shirt sleeve off carefully, revealing a long gash at the top of the slender arm. It was bleeding profusely staining the pale skin bright red. Fraser pressed one of the towels against the wound to stem the bleeding.

Fraser breathed a sigh of relief, "It looks like a flesh wound. Get me a bowl of warm water." Ray had regained consciousness when Billy returned a few minutes later with a small bowl of water.

"Ouch Frase. That hurt," Ray complained as Fraser carefully cleaned his arm.

"Why didn't you tell me that you had been shot?" Fraser scolded as he ripped a towel in half to make a bandage.

Ray bit his bottom lip in pain. "Ya would have made me go to hospital," he whispered. "And anyways, we had a job a do," he nodded towards Billy who was leaning lazily on the door frame.

Fraser sighed in exasperation. "Ray. You are..... are impossible," Fraser said as he wrapped the towel around his friend's arm, securing it with some tape Billy had found in a kitchen drawer. Satisfied Fraser stood up pulling his partner's boots off. He carefully tucked the bedspread around his friend.

"Call Welsh again," Ray mumbled as he closed his eyes. Fraser brushed his hand lightly over his partner's forehead - it was hot and sweaty.

"Will he be OK?" Billy asked again.

Fraser regarded the man who resembled his partner right down to his spiky blonde hair. "Yes Mr. Tallent. He will be fine. Thank you for your concern," he replied coolly.

Billy frowned. "Guess I deserved that. Kinda been an asshole to your friend. Now he's gone and gotten himself shot for me," he looked down studying his boots. "And it's Billy."

Fraser smiled. "Yes Mr... Billy. He does have a tendency to get himself shot for other people," he replied. "He stepped in front of a bullet meant for me on the day we met."

"You sure he's gonna be alright?" Billy asked.

Fraser looked over to his partner; he was asleep. Dief had jumped onto the bed nestling at Ray's side, his head protectively laying on his stomach. "Yes I'm sure he'll be fine."

**************

Night descended upon the small cabin. Fraser had called Lieutenant Welsh on Ray's cell phone to further explain the situation. He assured the lieutenant that Ray was fine, and had learned that Aaron Blake was furious accusing Ray and Fraser of kidnapping. Welsh had instructed him to stay at the cabin until the next day when he would bring reinforcements to escort them safely back to the city. The shooter had not been captured so he warned Fraser to take appropriate precautions. Upon hanging up the cell phone, Fraser had secured the doors and windows placing Ray's holster and handcuffs on the kitchen counter. He stood in the small kitchen preparing a light supper. Ray had bought enough supplies to keep them going for a couple of days. He had even purchased some packets of cigarettes for Billy.

"Constable," Billy came up behind the Mountie. "I don't think your friend is very well. I just checked. He seems really hot." Fraser turned and was surprised to see the man's blue eyes filled with concern. The Mountie made his way towards the bedroom. He moved quietly over to the bed to study his partner. Ray's face was slightly flushed, but his breathing was even and deep. He lightly touched his friend's forehead, it was still hot.

"Frase?" Ray mumbled opening his eyes.

"Yes Ray. How are you feeling?" Fraser asked.

"Like I got shot in the arm," Ray gave his partner a lopsided grin. "Is everything OK with our ace guitarist? Did ya call Welsh?"

Fraser smiled back. "Yes to both questions. I have everything under control. I only came to check if you were alright. Billy was concerned about you," he replied.

"He was?" Ray looked surprised. "Wow go figure."

"Let me look at your arm?" Fraser urged. Ray wriggled and complained as the Mountie checked his wound insisting on redressing it with a clean towel.

Ray seemed exhausted at the effort of protesting, and his eyes closed as Fraser covered him back up. Dief nestled closer to his American friend in comfort. Closing the door slightly, Fraser returned to the living room.

"Well," Billy demanded taking a puff of his cigarette. "Is he OK?"

Fraser smiled nodding. "He's fine. Don't worry," he answered. "When we get back to Chicago tomorrow, I'll make sure he gets checked out at the hospital."

Billy turned and slumped in an armchair. "It's just I don't want....want to be," he started to say stubbing his cigarette out into the ash tray, and immediately lighting another.

Fraser sat down on the couch. "Don't want to be what?" he asked kindly.

Billy looked up, tears in his blue eyes. "Responsible for another death," he muttered studying his hands.

"I am not sure I know what you mean Billy?" Fraser looked puzzled. "Ray is a policeman. He understands the risks involved."

Billy jerked his head up staring directly at the Mountie. "You're best friends, right?" he asked.

"Yes. Yes, we are," Fraser nodded surprised at the change of subject.

"I had a best friend once," Billy said so quietly that Fraser nearly didn't catch the words. "He's.... dead now."

"I'm sorry. May I ask what happened?" Fraser asked curious despite himself.

Billy looked directly at the Mountie, his pale eyes glinting icily. "We grew up together. We made up names for each other. We formed a band. He raped me. We grew apart. The band split up after 12 years or so. We reunited for a one off tour. I left the band and him for Jenifur. He shot himself in the head. End of story," Billy answered bitterly grinding his cigarette angrily into the ashtray.

"Oh," Fraser muttered sensing that there was more to the story than the bitter monosyllables. "So. Your real name is William Boisy," he asked changing the subject.

Billy scowled. "Always hated that name," he replied. "Joe always called me Billy. Ever since we were kids. When we formed the band, he thought up the Tallent bit."

"Another thing you have in common with Ray. Stanley is his real name, and he hates it." At Billy's puzzled look. "It's a rather long story," Fraser smiled. "So Joe was your best friend?"

"Yeh. Joe Dick, or should I say Mulgrew. He was a year older than me. Always was larger than life, had a bad attitude. Great singer though," Billy said wistfully.

"He always accused me of wanting the models and the limos. Said he was happy with the hookers and taxi cabs. I got what I wanted. Fame and fortune, and he got...... got dead."

"I'm sorry Billy," Fraser said leaning forward. "It must be difficult for you."

"Shot himself in front of a camera on the street," Billy murmured. "Always was a showman. Right to the very end."

"I am sure it wasn't your fault that Joe killed himself," Fraser sympathised.

"Been telling myself that for over five years. Not got myself convinced yet,"Billy whispered. "Kinda miss the bastard."

Fraser looked down. "Yes I know that feeling," he agreed.

Billy regarded the Mountie for a moment narrowing his eyes. "Yeh, I think you do. So who do you think is trying to blow my head off?" he asked lighting another cigarette.

Fraser thought for a moment. "I think it is someone from your past, or someone connected to your past," he responded.

"How come?" Billy asked curious.

"Whoever tried to shoot you this afternoon used your given name. William Boisy. You have just told me you hate the name," Fraser explained. "Can you think of anyone from your past who would hate you enough to want to kill you?"

"Yes one," Billy said quietly. "But he's dead."

"What about the other members of Hard Core Logo?" Fraser asked.

Billy screwed his eyes up in thought. "Let's see. Last I heard Pipefitter is still working with the film maker who made a documentary about us. And John is fronting a country and western band in Austin, Texas. And.... and Joe is dead."

"Mmmm, I see," Fraser murmured moving to the window and pulling the curtains tightly across the small window.

**************

The figure shrouded in black hid behind the car. He watched as figures moved across the small window of the cabin. A shaft of light shining through a gap in the curtains illuminated the front steps. He crouched down as a tall figure pulled the curtains tightly across the window plunging the surrounding area into an eerie darkness lit only by the few stars twinkling in the sky. Creeping forward, he put his hand on the cold metal of his gun. Removing the safety, he silently made his way up the steps towards the door. Standing tall and taking a deep breath, he propelled the door off its hinges with a hefty kick from his large booted foot.

**************

Ray woke from his dream with a start. He had been playing an electric guitar, and the audience were jeering him as his fingers moved across the unfamiliar strings making a sound like a cat squealing. He looked around the darkness of the room. Dief was at the door growling lowly in his throat. "What's up Dief?" he asked swinging his legs off the bed carefully, pulling on his boots. His arm throbbed, and he bit his bottom lip in pain. The wolf came back to him whining quietly. "I hear it Dief," Ray whispered at the sound of the angry voice in the next room. He held onto his arm as he slowly rose to his feet. Swaying slightly, he made his way over to the door. He peered through the crack in the door. An unknown man had Fraser and Billy covered with a revolver.

He was shouting abuse at the blonde man and waving the gun around in wild circles. "Unhinged," Ray sighed to himself. "That's all we need." He bent down removing his boot gun from its holster tucking it into the back of his jeans. Not wanting Dief to get hurt, he instructed the wolf to stay put. The wolf whined in protest, but leapt up on the bed watching the slender detective.

Taking a deep breath, Ray swung the door open. "Yer aiming the gun at the wrong man," he yelled at the man dressed in black.

The man swung the gun in his direction confused. "Billy?" he asked confused looking from one blonde to another.

"Yeh. This jerk's a cop," Ray indicated towards Billy, who remained silent his eyes wide with shock. "He was supposed to be protecting me, but he messed up and I got shot." The man swung the gun back towards Billy unsure, his hand wavering. "Hey," Ray shouted trying to distract his attention from Fraser and Billy. "Ya ever seen me without the rings?" he wiggled his fingers at the man. The figure turned to stare at him, brown eyes glistening with hate and contempt, the gun aimed at his head. Ray noticed out of the corner of his eye that Fraser had started to move slowly towards the kitchen counter where his holster and handcuffs were laying.

Mind made up, the man waved the gun lazily at Ray. "You killed him. You deserve to die," he threatened. "John never hurt anyone. He just wanted to be part of Hard Core Logo, but you destroyed that. You killed Joe. Then you killed John," he spat.

Ray dredged his memory for the information he had memorised from the file. "Joe Dick and John Oxenburger. Two members of Hard Core Logo," he thought to himself. "They killed themselves," Ray said calmly taking a chance that his guess would be right.

"No you and your selfishness killed them both," the man hissed. "Joe killed himself because you left him for the bright lights. John hated his life as a country and western singer. He just wanted to be in Hard Core Logo. But you took that away from him. One night, he just took many of his lithium tablets and never woke up."

"I'm sorry. But they chose to kill themselves," Ray muttered calmly staring directly into the eyes of a man, who he knew was about to pull the trigger.

"You betrayed them both for what? Money. Fame. Their lives were worth more," the man screamed. "You deserve to die," his finger tightened on the trigger.

"No Andy. Don't," Billy shouted. The man hesitated confusion showing in his eyes. Seizing his opportunity, Billy sprang up charging the man and knocking him off balance. A shot rang out. Fraser leaped forward hitting the man hard on the arm making him drop the gun in agony. Fraser pulled his arms roughly behind him making the man squeal in pain. Shoving him towards the kitchen counter, he retrieved Ray's handcuffs fastening them efficiently around the man's wrists. At that moment, the door burst open and Welsh, Dewey and Huey appeared guns drawn.

**************

Ray yelped as he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as the bullet hit him propelling him backwards into the bedroom. He crumpled to the floor; he closed his eyes letting the pain wash over him. He felt Dief licking his face, and was aware that someone was kneeling down next to him pressing a weight on his shoulder. He opened his eyes slowly focusing on the figure bending over him; Billy Tallent was smiling down at him. Ray smiled back weakly before the darkness claimed him.

Welsh took control of the situation directing Huey and Dewey to take Andrew Oxenburger into custody. Andrew glared over towards Billy as he was led away towards the police cars. Fraser rushed over to his partner's side.

Billy looked up at the Mountie. "He did it again," he murmured.

Fraser patted his shoulder. "So it would seem," he knelt to check the extent of his unconscious partner's injuries. Billy was pressing a towel to Ray's shoulder trying to stem the bleeding.

Welsh hurried over. "The paramedics are on there way," he panted. "How is he?"

Glancing up at the lieutenant. "Looks like the bullet went straight through his shoulder," Fraser answered as the paramedics arrived pushing Fraser and Billy aside. Fraser stood up pulling Billy with him to allow the paramedics to do their job. "How did you know that the perpetrator was on his way here?" he asked Welsh curious.

Welsh perched on the side of the couch. "After you told me about a possible leak, we started to check out everyone including all the staff at the Mayor's Office. Of course, I had already told Lewis Shaw where you were so he could assure Aaron Blake that you hadn't kidnapped his lead guitarist," the lieutenant smiled as he noticed Fraser blushing in embarrassment. "Well an hour ago, we came up with a connection. Rebecca Elliott, nee Oxenburger, works in the Mayor's Office. Had access to all the schedules, and she admitted that she had told her brother where you were hiding Billy," he explained.

"I see," Fraser reflected. "So John Oxenburger's brother and sister planned to kill Billy in revenge for their brother's suicide."

Welsh nodded. "That's about the long and short of it. She told us that her brother had been following Jenifur across the country. Security was so tight that he could only get close enough to arrange some minor accidents in Dallas. Apparently, he had some friends living there. Dallas PD are picking them up now. Somehow he managed to send the threatening letters."

"And Rebecca gave her brother the information on the Chicago schedules once they had been confirmed by the Mayor's Office and the band," Fraser said.

Welsh nodded again. "Yep. Rebecca found out that Billy was coming ahead of the band to do promotional stuff, and told her brother. She even got him a pass to get through the security at the television studio."

"I didn't know John was dead," Billy whispered from behind the two men. "I thought he was OK. I thought he was happy with the country and western band. Nobody told me he was dead."

Fraser patted his shoulder. "Joe and John killed themselves. It was not your fault. You had every right to chose the way you lived your life," Fraser assured the blonde man.

"May be," Billy mumbled.

Fraser glanced sideways noticing that the paramedics were lifting Ray gently onto a stretcher in readiness for transport to the hospital. "Now I think we had better get you back to Chicago. You have a concert to attend."

Billy nodded in agreement. He watched as the paramedics wheeled Ray past on a stretcher heading towards the waiting ambulance. "Do you think he will be OK?" he asked.

Fraser smiled. "Yes. He'll be fine. He's tougher than he looks," he replied.

"Aint that the truth," Billy muttered as he followed the Mountie out towards the police vehicles.

***************

Ray had been treated for his injuries at the hospital. As usual, he had protested and argued with the medical staff and had eventually been discharged into Fraser's care, his arm and shoulder heavily bandaged with a sling for support. Fraser and Dief had collected a few things from the Consulate and were staying with Ray at his apartment for the week. Andrew Oxenburger had been charged with the murder of the TV interviewer, attempted murder and various other charges. Rebecca Elliott had been charged as an accessory to murder. They would both be spending a long time in prison.

Ray and Fraser had spent the evening watching Jenifur perform live on television for the Mayor's favourite charity. They were now enjoying a lazy Sunday morning. Ray was sitting on the couch reading a book. Dief was beside him, furry head resting on his lap. Fraser was in the small kitchen clearing up the breakfast dishes and making some warm drinks for them.

He placed the steaming mugs on the coffee table. Just as he was about to sit and read the morning newspapers, a knock sent him over to open the apartment door. Billy Tallent stood on the other side, a shy smile on his face. "Can I come in?" he asked.

Fraser stepped back with a smile inviting the tall blonde into the tiny apartment. He disappeared into the kitchen to fetch Billy a cup of tea.

Billy slumped into an armchair. "How are you feeling Ray?" he asked smiling.

"I'm good," Ray replied. "Bit sore, but Frase and Dief are looking after me."

"That's good," Billy looked down at his hands. "I just came by to say goodbye and thank you both," he said.

"No problem," Ray replied. "All part of the service."

Billy's expression became earnest. "No I mean it. Thanks. You saved my life twice. Even after I had been a complete jerk to you," he said.

"Look if ya hadn't shoved him over when ya did, I woulda been a guest at the cold meat party. So we're even. OK?" Ray said.

Billy considered the blonde detective a moment. "OK," he agreed.

Ray grinned mischievously. "Frase told me ya hate yer name. I think William is a nice name," he teased.

Billy shot the detective a dirty look, which quickly turned into a matching grin. "Hey. That's not buddies Stanley," he chuckled.

"Touche," Ray conceded laughing.

Fraser returned from the kitchen offering Billy a mug of tea. "Where are Jenifur heading next?" he asked as he sat down.

"Toronto. Then we tour across Canada to Vancouver, then back to L.A.," Billy explained taking a sip of his tea. He pulled a face at the taste. "Tastes like straw," he complained to Fraser.

"Been trying to tell him that for months," Ray beamed.

Fraser adopted his most indignant expression. "Bark tea is extremely good for the body. Far better than the coffee you insist on drinking," Fraser replied primly. Ray and Billy dissolved into a fit of giggles at the Mountie's wounded expression. Fraser sighed in exasperation at the two men deciding to ignore their slur on his favourite tea.

The three men spent an hour talking generally about music and sport. "Well I gotta be going," Billy stood up. "Aaron is waiting downstairs for me." He bent down to shake hands with Ray. "Oh yeah. Nearly forgot. I wanted to give you this. My best friend gave it to me when we started Hard Core Logo," he handed Ray a small box. "It always brought me luck. Hope it does the same for you."

"Ya don't have to," Ray started to say.

"No please. I want you to have it as a kind of thank you," Billy insisted. "Please."

Ray thought for a moment studying the man in front of him. "OK. Thanks. William," Ray accepted the box grinning.

Billy pointed a finger at him. "Stay well Stanley," he smiled.

Fraser led him towards the door. Billy turned offering the Mountie his hand. "Thank you Fraser. For everything you did. I still can't help thinking I am to blame in someway for their deaths, but talking to you made me feel better than I have in a long time."

Fraser shook the man's hand warmly. "Perhaps, we will see you again."

"You never know," Billy grinned. "Do you think you could cope with two of us again?"

"Yes. Well no. Perhaps not," Fraser teased.

"Here," Billy delved into his pocket. "This is for you. Best thing that Hard Core Logo ever did," he handed the Mountie a cassette.

"Thank you kindly," Fraser accepted the gift.

After seeing Billy off down the corridor, Fraser returned to the living room. "May I put this cassette on your stereo Ray?" he asked curious to hear what Hard Core Logo sounded like.

"Yeh," Ray replied. "Knock yerself out."

"What did Billy give you?" he asked as he carefully pushed the cassette in place.

"This," Ray wiggled his finger at Fraser. Billy's ornate silver ring fitted his slender finger perfectly. "He gave me his ring."

Fraser pushed the play button of the stereo and the sounds of Hard Core Logo singing "Who The Hell Do You Think You Are" blared loudly from the speakers vibrating around the walls of the tiny apartment.

"Hey Frase," Ray raised his voice over the music. "The neighbours."

"Understood."

THE END