Daddy's Girl

Ending to Story Starter #4

"Well?" Leslie demanded. "Do I come home with you or not?"

"Ok, you can come home with us, but ONLY for one night." Mike said, pointing a finger in her face, "Understand?"

"Thanks, Mike." Leslie smiled, throwing her arms around him and giving him a big kiss.

Micky turned the car around again and drove the rest of the way home. The others tried to get Leslie to tell them more about her family or why she was running away, but she simply said she was unhappy with her home life.

"I just can't take it anymore." Was all she would say, shaking her head.

When they got home, the five of them went inside and Leslie looked around the pad.

"Groovy place, guys." She said. "Where do I sleep?"

Mike pulled out the bed from inside one of the sofas. "You'll sleep here tonight." Mike said, as Davy brought over a pillow and blanket.

"Here Leslie." He said, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight all of you and thank you." Leslie replied.

The Monkees simply shrugged and went into their bedrooms, none too happy about having a runaway staying over, let alone one who blackmailed them into doing so.

The next morning, the Monkees were awakened by the smell of breakfast cooking.

"Is that pancakes I smell?" Micky asked, wide awake.

"Yeah, smells good, too." Mike yawned.

The two quickly got washed and dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen. Davy and Peter were already there, digging into the pancakes.

"Hope you saved some for us." Micky said to them, sitting down.

"I made plenty, Micky." Leslie smiled and placed several of them on his plate, then onto the plate in front of Mike.

"Thanks, Leslie!" Micky exclaimed as he dug in.

"Thank you." Mike said, not looking at her.

When Leslie went back over to the stove, Davy whispered to the others.

"She was right, she is a good cook."

"Doesn't matter." Mike whispered back, "We're taking her home or to the police."

"But she'll tell them..."

"I don't care, her family's probably worried sick about her." Mike put in.

"How were the pancakes?" Leslie asked, bringing over the coffee pot.

"Very good, Leslie." Davy replied.

"Told you I was a good cook." Leslie replied, beaming.

"Still doesn't change the fact you shouldn't be here, Leslie." Mike said, trying to reason with her. "Your parents must be worried about you."

Leslie slammed the coffee pot down on the table. "I told you I'm running away!" She said angrily. "What my parents think doesn't matter anymore!"

"What if we really had mistreated you last night, Leslie." Peter asked, "Don't you see the danger of being alone and away from home?"

Leslie looked at the floor. "You four don't see the danger of me being home."

"What do you mean, Leslie?" Micky asked.

"I mean not everyone has a happy home, Micky." Leslie replied.

She sighed and went into the living room, where she picked up her duffel bag. The Monkees followed her.

"Where are you going?" Mike asked.

"I'm leaving, just like you want me to, Mike." Leslie replied, "I don't want the four of you getting in trouble because of me." She walked over to the door.

"Let us drive you home or to the police station, Leslie." Peter said, walking over to her. "If you're having problems at home, you can talk to them and they'll help you."

"No they won't." Leslie said, shaking her head. "You don't know my Dad. Goodbye and thank you for letting me stay last night."

With that, Leslie opened the door and left the pad. Micky silently pulled it closed. The four Monkees looked at each other, pondering over what Leslie had told them.

Leslie hefted her duffel bag higher onto her shoulder as she walked down the street. She knew she had to keep moving on or her Dad would find her-just like he had found her Mom when she had run off. To her relief, she came upon the Malibu bus station. Checking her pockets, Leslie determined she had enough money to go to San Francisco. She hoped that would be far enough.

Walking inside, Leslie began to walk over to the ticket counter, when a strong hand grabbed her upper arm.

"Hello, miss Howard. Nice day today, isn't it?"

Leslie looked up at the source of the voice. It was a heavy-built dark-skinned man about thirty years old with a scar under one eye.

"Let me go, Sampson." Leslie demanded, "You're hurting my arm."

Sampson snickered, but didn't let go. "Your father is going to do more than that to you when we get home." He said.

"I'm not going back!" She shouted.

"I think you are." Sampson answered gruffly, "Your father doesn't like disobedience."

He began to drag her toward the door, but blocking the door were Mike and Micky.

"I don't think she wants to go with you, mister." Mike said.

"Get out of our way." Sampson snarled.

"Do as he says, you two." Leslie said, "He'll hurt you."

"Yeah." Sampson sneered, "Do what the lady says."

Mike and Micky backed away. Keeping his eyes on the two Monkees, Sampson walked backwards out the door with Leslie. Since he had his back to the door, Sampson didn't see the luggage cart until it crashed into his legs, courtesy of Davy and Peter! The thug went sprawling to the ground. Mike grabbed Leslie's arm and the five of them ran over to the Monkeemobile.

Unfortunately, it didn't take long for Sampson to recover and he was soon hot on their heels. Micky knocked over a garbage can and kicked it into Sampson's path. Once again, Sampson fell to the ground. That gave the five of them time to get into the Monkeemobile and speed away.

Sampson cursed as the watched the car speed off. They may have won this round, he thought to himself, but he had gotten a good look at their license plate.

"Are you ok, Leslie?" Peter asked her.

She shook her head. "I'm such a fool. I should've known the bus stations would be watched."

"Who was that creep?" Micky asked.

"His name is Sampson, one of my Dad's enforcers." Leslie said, looking at the floor.

"Enforcers?" Davy repeated, "I don't like the sound of that."

"Why did you guys come after me?" Leslie asked.

"Well, it sounded like you didn't have a nice home life, so we decided to help." Peter replied.

"We're going to the police right now." Mike said firmly.

"It'll do no good." Leslie said, "My Dad is rich. He has the police and the local politicians in his back pocket."

"What does your Dad do for a living?" Micky asked, not liking what he was hearing either. "Tell us so we can help you."

There was a long silence in the car while Leslie decided if she should tell the men what she knew. Finally she reached a decision.

"My Dad's in the mob." Leslie whispered, "He's always meeting shady-looking men. He gets real mad and violent when I ask further. He gets mad and violent even when I don't ask. I couldn't take it anymore, so I ran away." Leslie put her head in her hands and began to cry. "But not before I took some of his papers. I thought I could use them to prove he was in the mob." She held up the duffel bag.

"What about your Mom? Can't she help?" Peter asked, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"She's dead." Leslie said simply, wiping her eyes, "She drowned in the ocean a few years ago, but she was a good swimmer."

It was silent in the car for several minutes, until Mike pulled into the driveway of the pad.

"You're not taking me to the police?" Leslie asked.

"No, you're gonna stay with us a while longer, Leslie." Mike said, as he let her into the pad. "You see, your Dad may know some important people, but so do we."

Mike looked back at his friends with a smile, a few seconds later, they caught on too and smiled as well.

A few hours later, as Leslie and the Monkees were watching TV, police sirens were heard and they were coming closer.

"Sounds like the police." Leslie said, "I knew it would only be a matter of time."

"Just stay calm, Leslie." Mike said, as they all got off the couch. "It'll be ok."

The police sirens stopped in front of the pad and a few seconds later, the front door was kicked open by several policemen, guns drawn. They ran inside the pad.

"Hold it right there!" One of the policemen barked. "Put your hands up!"

"What's going on?" Mike demanded, raising his hands, "You can't just barge in here and…"

"Oh yes they can." Another voice said, "Especially if I say so." The owner of the voice came from behind the policeman. He was a tall, evil-looking man with slicked-back brown hair and wearing an expensive silk suit. The man looked at Leslie.

"Oh, there's daddy's girl." He said with a smile, "I'm glad to see that you're safe."

"No you're not, Dad." Leslie replied.

Leslie's Dad walked over to her and slapped her across the mouth.

"Still defiant, just like your mother." He said, "Well, when we get home, I'll give you another lesson in obedience. Now where are my papers?"

"Right here, sir." An officer replied, grabbing the bag from the floor and handing to him.

"I don't know what you were thinking, Leslie." Her Dad said, opening the bag and looking the papers inside. "Trying to run away when I need those papers, and for your sake they better all be in here." Satisfied everything was in order, he grabbed Leslie's arm. "Let's go. Now." He ordered.

"What about us?" Davy asked, "We found her walking by herself on a dark road, don't we get an award?"

"How about that I don't tell the police you abused her after finding her walking along the road?" Mr. Howard replied.

"No, dad, they were nice to me." Leslie replied.

"Shut up." He growled at her, then turned to the Monkees. "You boys hear what I said? Keep your mouths shut and you'll live a lot longer."

"And what if we don't?" Micky asked, "What if we tell the authorities that you're in The Club?"

"So you've been talking, eh Leslie?" Leslie's Dad growled, walking over to the Monkees. "You have no proof. All my proof is in this bag." He said, holding the bag up. "You know too much now, I think you boys are due for a swimming accident."

"No, Dad, please leave them alone." Leslie begged.

"Shut up, unless you want to go with them." Her dad growled.

"You'd kill me too?" Leslie cried, "Just like Mom?"

"Your mother was a meddling fool!" Her dad shouted, "She couldn't keep her mouth shut, just like you! I had to get rid of her." He turned to his men. "Take them all out and drown them!"

"What about the police?" Davy asked.

"What about them?" Mr. Howard laughed, "I control the police around here, along with several members of the local FBI and CIA. Nobody will question what happened."

"I don't think so, Mr. Howard." Another voice said from above.

Everyone looked up to see two men in suits standing on the landing at the top of the stairs.

"And who are you?" Leslie's Dad shouted.

"I'm Inspector Blount and this is agent Modell from the CIS." Blount replied calmly, showing his badge, "And you all are under arrest."

Suddenly, several men appeared on the landing with them, guns drawn. Other men came charging through the front and back doors, plus from Peter and Davy's downstairs bedroom. Leslie's Dad and all his men were completely surrounded, and within seconds they were all disarmed.

Leslie's dad looked at all the CIS agents and then smiled at the two agents now coming down the hurricane stairs.

"Under arrest on what charges?" Leslie's dad demanded.

"It would take until next week to mention them all, Mr. Howard." Inspector Blount replied, "But for starters we can have the murder of your wife, intimidation of witnesses and attempted murder."

"You have nothing on me." The gangster said, trying to hide the duffel bag. "I was just joking, right Leslie?" He dad asked, but his daughter just glared at him.

"You had mom murdered." She whispered, tears coming down her eyes. The gangster looked over at the two agents.

"Perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement, gentlemen."

"No dice, Mr. Howard." Inspector Blount replied, "My men and I have been after you for some time now. You've managed to bribe or intimidate the local authorities into stonewalling our investigation."

"But these young men called us and told us about your daughter." Agent Modell said.

"Now we have all the proof we need to put you away for good." He snatched the duffel bag away from the gangster.

"Plus, everything you've said has been recorded on video and tape." Micky said, walking over and pulling a poster off the wall. Behind it was a video camera. "I think we have an air-tight case, right inspector?"

"Right, take them away." Inspector Blount told his men.

Soon, Leslie's dad, the crooked cops and the other gangsters with him were handcuffed and taken away. As soon as her Dad was gone, Leslie began to sob. Davy took her in his arms and held her close.

"It's gonna be ok now, Leslie." He said softly, "You did very well. Your Dad isn't gonna hurt anyone ever again."

But Leslie shook her head. "He'll get out of this somehow. He'll bribe and threaten people just like before."

"Not this time, Miss Howard." Agent Modell replied, handing her a tissue, "We're not based in this area. We are, shall we say, outside of your father's influence."

"Yes, we're from the Central Intelligence Service, a secret government branch which deals mostly in espionage and other hard-to-crack cases." Inspector Blount added.

"I never heard of you." Leslie admitted, wiping her eyes.

"Neither did we," Micky chuckled, "Until about a year ago, when Peter picked up the wrong fortune-cookie and we ended up helping the CIS capture the Dragonman, a Chinese spy leader."

"Wow." Leslie said, looking impressed.

"When you said your Dad had bribed or intimidated the local authorities," Mike said, "I figured the only people we could count on was the CIS."

"And we're glad you did, Mike." Inspector Blount said proudly, "That makes two criminals you've helped put behind bars."

"Maybe you could make us junior agents?" Peter asked hopefully, but Inspector Blount shook his head.

"I'm sorry boys, but your lives are going to change now." He said.

The four Monkees looked at each other, then at the inspector.

"What do you mean?" Davy asked.

"The Inspector means that all of you, including Miss Howard here, will have to enter our witness protection program." Agent Modell answered.

"Why?" Peter asked.

"Unlike Dragonman's gang, which was small," The agent replied, "The gang Mr. Howard controls is large, and no doubt word will travel quickly about his arrest."

"And like other mafia gangs, they will stop at nothing to get revenge on those who put Leslie's Dad behind bars." The inspector finished.

The four Monkees gulped at this.

"So what happens now?" Micky asked.

"Now, you boys better pack up what you can and do it quickly." Agent Modell told them, "You'll have to come with us now and we'll put in you in a safe house where Mr. Howard's gang can't find you."

"Now?" Peter asked.

"Yes, now." Inspector Blount replied, "Time is of the essence."

"What about me?" Leslie asked, frightened.

"You're going to a different safe house with your Mom's sister Jean, Miss Howard." Inspector Blount replied, "I've already arranged for her to be taken there."

"How long will we be in this safe house, Inspector?" Micky asked.

"Until at least Mr. Howard's trial." The inspector said, "I'm sorry, but this is all for your protection. We'll also make sure your families know what's going on."

The Monkees nodded sadly. They understood, but weren't happy at all about it.

So the Monkees quickly packed up their clothes and instruments and walked out over to the waiting cars with Leslie. She stopped and turned to them.

"I want to thank you four for helping me." She said. "And I'm sorry too for getting all of you into this. I just didn't want to go back to my dad."

"It's ok, Leslie." Davy said, "We're glad we could help you."

The four Monkees gathered around Leslie and gave her a group hug. Agent Modell cleared his throat and the group separated.

"I'm sorry, but we have to go now." He said.

"Will I see them again?" Leslie asked the agent.

"Probably at your Dad's trial." Agent Model replied, "For your safety and theirs, you'll all have to stay hidden."

Leslie nodded her head and looked at the Monkees once more.

"Goodbye, guys." She smiled, holding back her tears.

"Bye Leslie. Take Care." Mike said.

Leslie then got into the waiting car and the Monkees were escorted into another. The cars drove off, leaving behind the empty pad.

After several months, John `The Animal' Howard went on trial for a long list of crimes, including murder, extortion, drug dealing and tax evasion. Bolstered by the papers in the duffel bag, the video tapes, and the Monkees' testimony, he was sentenced to life in prison with no parole. Many other members of `The Club' were also arrested and convicted as well, bringing down one of the biggest mob groups in California history.

After the trial, fearing retaliation from the mob, the CIS relocated the Monkees to another city. Unfortunately, after the trial, Leslie and her aunt had to change their names, so the Monkees were never able to contact them again.

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