Noble Intentions: Season Two (Episodes 6-10) by L.T. Ryan Page B

precinct.”
    Bear nodded and said nothing while gesturing for Larsen to continue.
    “So anyways, this guy, he confirmed it. Saw the men return to the house with dark duffel bags.” Larsen stopped and wiped his brow. “And a little blond-haired girl.”
    “Let me talk to him.”
    Larsen held up his hands, extending his index fingers into the air. He said, “I’ll let you talk, but don’t screw with this guy. OK? He’s one of my best sources. The best source I have for anything related to Melikov. Nobody, and I mean nobody, knows I’ve got this guy talking. I’m close to bringing Boris down. You got that?”
    “Yeah,” Bear said. “I got it. Now, let me talk to him.”
    Larsen nodded. He pushed the brown front door open and walked into the house.
    Bear stepped through the doorway. The warm air coated his face and a thin layer of sweat formed. The residual smell of a burnt dinner invaded his nose. Two antique lamps lit the room, giving it a yellowish glow.
    The man sat on the couch. His right leg crossed over his left. His left leg bouncing up and down. He had light brown hair and a slender pale face. Pale except for the red spot on his cheek where Larsen must have punched him.
    “This is my associate,” Larsen said. “His name is Logan.”
    The man nodded at Bear. Crossed his arms. Said nothing.
    “Tell me what you saw,” Bear said.
    The man sat up. He leaned forward and dropped his arms over his bent knee. He spoke in a deep voice, deeper than Bear expected from a man so small in stature.
    “Like I told the detective, I was working at Melikov’s place today—”
    “You work for him?” Bear asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Part of his organization?”
    “No,” the man said. “It’s not like that. I don’t go out and commit crimes or any of that stuff. I work in the house. Cooking and stuff.”
    “A servant.”
    The man pursed his lips and dropped his head an inch.
    “Go on,” Bear said.
    “There really isn’t much to tell, I’m afraid. The door opened and five men stepped through. Four carried duffel bags, from the bank robbery, I guess. One carried a little girl.”
    “Describe the men,” Bear said.
    “They were a blur. I tuned them out. Probably because I had seen them in the house before. The girl stood out, though.”
    “Describe her to me.”
    “Blond hair. Looked to be about ten. She had on a red t-shirt and jeans. I started toward them and one of Boris’s men told me to go to the kitchen. I really don’t know what happened after that. I went off shift an hour later and didn’t see the girl or the men again.”
    Bear studied the man for a few minutes. Locked eyes with him. The guy didn’t waver. Didn’t look away. Didn’t blink but once or twice. Bear believed him.
    “I think he’s legit,” Larsen said. “He’s provided me with solid intel before.”
    Bear walked around to the back of the sofa where the man sat. Each step he took was slow and deliberate. He asked, “What’s your name?”
    The man started to speak but Larsen cut him off.
    “That’s unnecessary, Bear. You don’t need his name.”
    Bear stopped and glanced at Larsen. He felt his cheeks burn hot. He took a deep breath decided to concede the name. For now.
    “OK, no names then. This is what you are going to do. Tomorrow, you are going to find out wherever they are hiding her, and you are going to tell her not to worry because Bear is coming for her soon.”
    “I—I can’t do that. They could kill me.”
    “I can kill you,” Bear said. “And I can make it a hell of a lot more painful than anything they will do.”
    “Bear,” Larsen said. “C’mon, he’s not in a position to be able to do that.”
    “You think I friggin’ care?” Bear said. “As far as I’m concerned he’s a notch below those bastards. He saw them bring in a child and did nothing to stop it.”
    “What do you think I could have done? These men are killers.”
    Bear paused. He circled the couch and stopped in front of the man. Knelt