The Key

This story was written to answer the challenge- write a story based on a book. I chose Dean Koontz "the Key to midnight"- No copyright infringements are intended with borrowing it's themes or with borrowing the M7 boys.

Chris Larabee paused just outside the stained glass entryway of "Easter's Inn" and breathed deeply as the balmy coastal breeze ruffled his blond hair. The smells of the beach were everywhere, a mix of salt, fish and suntan lotion. With a small smile he took one last glance at the mesmerizing sunset and entered the Inn. It was the only place to stay in the tiny town, but it looked pleasant enough.

Inside, the atmosphere seemed to match the outdoors without crossing over into the realm of tacky. Small potted palms decorated the ocean blue lobby, and off to the right he saw the entrance to the bar and restaurant that'd been highly recommended by the corner gas station's one attendant.

Twenty minutes later, checked in, showered and feeling somewhat refreshed, Chris entered the dining area and was seated in a corner booth for two. Hauntingly beautiful music flowed from the glossy black baby grand in the opposite corner. From his table, Chris could only see the pianist's shoulder. As he wondered what a pianist with such talent was doing at such an out of the way place, a young man who appeared barely out of his teens brought him a glass of ice water and a menu.

The restaurant was modestly full with only a few obvious tourists standing out, and Chris felt himself relaxing in the soothing surroundings. When his waiter returned with his beer he placed the rest of his order and sipped the cold brew.

It was the first time he'd been on vacation alone in years and, as the pianist transitioned into another melody, Chris felt a pang of melancholy descend on him despite his relaxed state. It'd been almost six years since he'd lost Sarah and Adam but the pain could still be sharp if he let it. He'd found some solace in the ATF and with Team Seven, but that too had slipped through his fingers just over two years ago. It had been his own choice to leave, but in the end he'd seen no other way around it. So he'd started a new career with the others—at least those that still remained. Shaking his head, Chris pushed those thoughts aside. It wouldn't do any good to get lost in the questions that assailed him daily, the guilt that riddled him or the failure that beat at his self-confidence…there didn't seem to be any answers anyway.

His meal arrived and he thanked the attentive teen for his service. The rueben was perfect and Chris felt himself letting go of the past one more time as he enjoyed the meal and music. He had just taken a sip of his after dinner coffee when the set ended and the pianist stood to greet the patrons. Chris choked on the hot liquid, his cup slipping from his fingers and clattering loudly onto the matching saucer. The pianist looked his way at the noise and unmistakable green eyes met his. Chris stared, his mouth burned, but he didn't notice it, instead he focused totally on the familiar features. Those eyes, that nose, that smile, those dimples and that damn gold tooth…it was all the same and Larabee's anger flared so quickly he could barely control his urge to strike out as his former friend approached.

"Good evening, I'm David Easter. Is everything to your liking?" The Inn's owner held out his graceful hand in greeting. It took Chris a minute to process what had been said. He cleared his throat and stood, shaking Easter's hand.

"Chris Larabee," he said watching closely for any response to his name.

"Nice to have you with us." Easter merely smiled congenially. "If there's anything you find yourself needing during your stay, please let me know." With a quick wave of his hand Easter had another waiter already approaching with towels to clean up the spilled coffee.

"Actually…" Chris paused, not quite sure how to proceed. "I'd love to have a cup of coffee with you. I enjoyed your performance." He groaned inwardly thinking he sounded like he was trying to pick the man up for a date or something.

David paused as well, a look of fear flashed briefly across his sun-tanned features and then was gone. "Let me greet my other patrons and I'll be happy to oblige," he answered finally.

"Certainly." Chris returned to his seat but couldn't tear his eyes away from Easter. Relief warred with confusion and anger, but one thing he finally knew for certain. After two years of fearing the worst…Ezra was alive.

David greeted the Inn's guests and got himself a cup of coffee from the busy kitchen before going back out into the dining room. He stopped at the bar and tried to calm his shaken nerves. He didn't know what it was about the stranger, Larabee, that stirred fear in him, but it was contrasted sharply with a deep desire to trust and confide in the man.

"You okay, David?" He looked up and smiled warmly at Ole Bess. His bartender since he'd opened the place. Bess looked nowhere near "old," but he'd never dared ask her how she'd inherited the nickname.

"I'm fine," he told her and moved toward Larabee's table.

"So what brings you to our little town?" he asked as he slid into the booth across from Chris.

"Just vacationing. Thought I'd try someplace new," Chris answered. He could just hear a faint southern accent in "David's" voice. "How long have you had this place? It's nice."

David grinned. "Just a dream of mine, I guess. I always wanted a place of my own so, after a few wise investments, I started this Inn about two years ago or so." He tried to ignore the alarm bells ringing off in his mind. Something didn't feel right about this man's questions and yet he couldn't seem to stop answering.

They talked for about an hour, David describing some of his adventures in starting the Inn. Larabee asked about his ability with the piano and David explained it was just a hobby his parents had gotten him into when he was young and he'd fallen in love with it.

Finally, claiming exhaustion, David excused himself and retired to his apartment on the third floor. Fifteen minutes later Chris was locking the door to his room and sinking into the large armchair next to the bed. His mind raced as he stared at the phone. He had to call the others, had to get them here, and yet what did he tell them…how did he tell them? He'd found Ezra, but he was someone else? Was Ezra scamming him? He knew that Ezra was extremely good at 'being' other people, but Standish had shown absolutely no reaction or recognition. He doubted even Ezra could act that well and further more…what would have driven Ezra to such extreme measures in the first place?

Wearily, Chris snatched up the phone and dialed an outside line. It took only three rings for someone to pick up on the other end.

"Larabee and Co. Investigations."

"Vin."

"Hey, Cowboy, didn't expect to hear from you for a few more days. You making sure we're not slacking off while your gone?"

"I found Ezra," Chris blurted out, unable to find an easier way to break the news.

"What'd you say?" The jovial tone in Vin's voice was replaced with fear.

"He's alive."

There was a full minute of silence as Chris listened to Tanner's measured breathing and waited. "Did you say he's alive?" Vin finally rasped, his tone now heavy with emotion.

Chris smiled faintly, knowing they'd all individually harbored the same unspoken fear. "He's very much alive. I talked to him and watched him drink coffee."

"Did he explain what the hell happened and where he's been for the last two fuckin' years? Why he didn't bother to even call us?" Vin's pent up emotion spilled over in rapid questions.

"That's the kicker, Vin. He didn't even know who I was."

"I don't follow you." The brief flash of anger was already receding from Tanner's voice, replaced by the confusion Chris felt.

He's not Ezra, I mean he is…I'm sure, right down to that freaking gold tooth of his, but he claims to be someone else."

"He scamming you?" Vin asked.

"I don't think so." Chris leaned back in the chair. "He showed absolutely no recognition when I introduced myself. I got him to chat with me a bit over coffee—he acts different."

"How so?" Vin interrupted before Chris could explain.

"Well, he was open. He owns the Inn I'm staying at and told me all about how he started the place, talked about his parents and seemed…on the up and up. No tells signaling a lie at all, save that he seemed…"

"Nervous?"

"No, more…frightened. Almost like he was half afraid of me, but he seemed to shake it off easily enough."

"Does he look the same?"

"Pretty much. He's more tan and his hair has bleached out a lot—guess he's become a regular beach bum, but he looks kind of tired too, worn out. He's got this—sadness about him, you can see it in his eyes. He's lost a lot of weight and his accent is pretty faint too, if I wasn't listening for it, I'd have missed it."

"Damn… but he's alive." Tanner's relief could be felt through the phone line.

"I need you guys here…I need to find out what has happened to him," Chris told him.

"You think he has amnesia?"

Chris thought a minute then shook his head, oblivious the fact that Tanner couldn't see him. "No, I think its more than that…I just don't have a clue what."

"We'll be there as soon as we can."

"Try to be subtle. This place is small and there's just the one Inn. Come in pairs and don't look like you know each other…but find out everything you can about David Easter." Chris quickly gave Vin his location.

"See you soon, Cowboy."

"See ya." Chris set the receiver back on the hook and closed his eyes. His family was on it's way and soon…for the first time in two years…they'd be complete. Would Ezra recognize any of them? What had happened to him and would they ever be able to find out or bring him back to being the man they cared about…and missed so much?

David came awake stifling his scream. The darkness of his bedroom pressed in around him as he clawed his way out of the damp sheets and stumbled into the bathroom. He retched, unable to control the stark fear that still invaded him or the pounding headache that always accompanied the dream.

It was the same…every night and he longed for one night's sleep to go by without the terrorizing nightmare. It wasn't even that the dream was that scary in itself…it was just how it left him, how he felt when he awoke. Lost, alone and completely out of control. A shiver swept through him and he grabbed a handful of toilet paper to wipe his mouth. Trembling, he pushed himself up and flushed the toilet. A quick glance in the mirror as he rinsed his face brought another wave of fear. He didn't feel like he knew the man staring back at him. His eyes searched the face, neck and chest pausing on the scars he saw there.

He remembered he'd been told they were left over from an accident when he was little but as his fingers unconsciously traced over one jagged white line and then another…he couldn't recall if it was his mother or father who'd explained it to him.

Knowing it would most likely be a awhile before he could sleep again, he padded barefoot to his mini bar and helped himself to a strong shot of his finest whiskey. He felt heavy with exhaustion and the depression settled quickly. If only there was someone who could help, or listen or just be there… a friend. He didn't have any real ones. Ole Bess cared, but didn't press, and since his parents were killed in the car accident…there was no one else. There'd been relationships, but as soon as a woman got too close, he savagely pushed her away. He didn't know why. He did the same thing with male friendships…so he had no one, nothing more than the Inn and his music.

He blinked back a tear, surprised at his display and shook his head. He should be used to the loneliness by now…it felt like that was the way it had always been…would always be. Gradually the whiskey did its work and pulled him into sleep without him even realizing it.

By the time David awoke, still in his chair, it was nearly noon. He showered and dressed and made his way to the front desk to check on the day so far with Martin, his assistant manager.

"Busy day so far, Boss." Martin grinned and waved a casual hand at the computer. "Had two rooms booked in the last three hours."

"You're kidding? Tourists?" David questioned.

Martin nodded. "I think so. A couple of guys on a fishing trip and one single…didn't say what he was doing in town, but then again…he didn't say much at all."

"Business is business." David grinned, proud of the good reputation his Inn carried despite being the only place to stay in town. Just then the front door opened and two men entered, each carrying a duffel bag. The shorter man also carried what looked like a laptop case.

"Good afternoon, Gentlemen," Martin greeted. "Welcome to Easter's Inn, how can I help you today?"

"We'd like a room please, a double." The taller man smiled and ran a hand over his mustache. His Hawaiian shirt was bright red with a yellow floral pattern.

"Is the restaurant open for lunch?" the younger man asked.

Since Martin was busy at the computer, David stepped forward and answered, "Yes it is, with a limited menu."

"Cool, th---anks." The younger man half choked on his words as he stared at David. His hazel eyes grew large and David was uncertain if he was actually okay.

"I'm David Easter, The Inn's owner," he introduced, unnerved by the other's strange reaction to him. The introduction seemed to break the weird spell.

"JD Dunne," the man introduced softly, his voice sounding thick with emotion.

"And I'm Buck…Wilmington," The taller of the two interjected, reaching for David's hand. He shook it vigorously and for a moment David feared the big man might actually hug him but Wilmington released his hand without incident.

"Pleasure to have you here." David forced another smile and quickly hurried away. He had no time to dwell on strange guests and these two had managed to leave him completely unsettled.

"My God, Chris, he looked right at me, shook my hand and gave no indication he recognized me…or JD." Buck paced back and forth as much as he was able to in Chris' crowded room. Vin sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard while Josiah and Nathan had taken spots at the end of the bed. Chris was in the armchair and JD had taken a spot on the floor against the door. He still looked pale and shaken from his encounter with Ezra.

"He showed no reaction at all?" Nathan asked skeptically.

"None." Buck threw up his hands in exasperation. "We used our real names and JD was gawking at him like he'd seen a ghost and he just smiled and welcomed us to the Inn."

"Could be a con," Nathan voiced quietly.

"He was never that good at fooling us," Vin answered. "You could almost always catch him off guard at some point…we could anyway."

Josiah remained quiet, taking in the information and cataloging it for later reference. He knew there was an answer somewhere.

"Okay, sitting here and theorizing isn't getting us anywhere," Chris finally spoke. "We need to spread out, ask casual questions around town and try to figure out what the hell is going on. Find out as much as you can about David Easter without stirring up suspicion. Check the hall of records, the newspaper, anywhere you can think of but make sure you stay away from the Inn's staff, I don't know how loyal they are to him or how he'll respond if they go running to him the first time we ask a question. We'll meet back here after he finishes the evening set downstairs."

David smiled and nodded a small bow to the appreciative audience before he disappeared into the kitchen and up the back stairs into his apartment. He was relieved the set was finally over; it'd felt like one of the hardest of his life, sitting up there and playing while all of "them" watched.

He'd been receiving phone calls from many of the locals all afternoon that'd left him both worried and angry. It seemed that the newest guests at his establishment all had something in common…they wanted information about him. He shivered again, a chill of fear sliding up his spine. He needed to get some answers and he knew that somehow the search started with Chris Larabee.

TBC...