102Coast Guard Authorities tell Channel 10 News that two explosions seen around ten miles offshore from Boston were that of a fishing vessel running aground on Shag Rocks near Little Brewster Island.
"No…" Adrian Monk said as he sat mesmerized by the television broadcast "No. That's not right."
"Adrian. Come on outside. You're missing the fireworks." His wife Natalie shouted to him through the French Doors leading to their patio, overlooking the Atlantic.
Lieutenant Paul Bastian stated that mechanical trouble was to blame for the wreck.
[cut to interview] "This afternoon, Ensign Alejandro Sanchez and Ensign James Turner were working on the lighthouse when they saw a fishing vessel driven by a Mr. Brendan Stowell veer towards the rocky outcrop, wreck and then burst into flames.
"Hey Monk, you coming? They have some excellent Chili cheese dip out here." Leland Stottlemeyer said, poking his head in the door.
[cut back to anchor] 65 year old Stowell's body was not recovered from the incident and with riptides being as they were, it is expected that he may never be found.
In other news, Mayor Christopher Brody announced the opening of a new shopping mega-mall in Bay Village…
"Monk?... Monk?" Leland said, walking over to the television remote and turning down the sound.
Adrian's visage looked disturbed, a look that Stottlemeyer, as his former crime-fighting partner, knew all too well.
"You okay, Monk?" asked Stottlemeyer.
"It's not right." Adrian responded.
"What's not right?" asked Leland.
"The news. That story. The story isn't right. It's not what happened." Adrian responded.
"What? About the explosions?" asked Leland.
"Yeah. They said that it was a fishing vessel that ran ashore and exploded. This was a much larger plume than would be produced by a fishing vessel. It was more like…I don't know, it was the kind of explosion you might see with the detonation of an IED or something. And then, the second explosion was a little further away and was even bigger, like that of a missile." Adrian answered.
"Yeah, well. Maybe it was a really big fishing vessel." Stottlemeyer suggested.
"Come on, Leland. You know better than that. You saw it too. That wasn't a gasoline explosion caused by a boat running ashore. That was something bigger." Adrian responded.
"I also know that when you're talking Coast Guard, you're talking military intelligence, so…if they say it was a fishing vessel, then most likely that's the only answer you're going to get." Stottlemeyer said. "Let it go, Monk. You don't always have to be on duty. Let's put down the remote and go out and enjoy a beer, or in your case, a nice glass of iced tea with our wives and just relax on this beautiful July evening." Leland said, taking the remote and turning off the TV.
For the rest of the evening, Adrian tried his best to be a good host to his house guests, but everyone knew him well enough to know that his mind was elsewhere. Still, they knew that it was best not to disturb him when he was 'thinking', because something brilliant was bound to come about or at least whatever was bugging him would be addressed and life could quickly return to normal. In fact, when he got this way, there were only three things that could redirect his focus – his four-month-olds Lee and Abby Monk, and, when she chose persistence, Natalie.
On this evening, it was Abby to the draw. As the Monks and Stottlemeyers talked about things back in San Francisco, suddenly they heard a cry in the baby monitor on the end table.
"That's Abby." Adrian said, standing up. "She's crying."
"Honey" Natalie said, taking Adrian by the wrist. "Please sit down. You don't have to jump up every time she cries. In fact, it is better that you don't. She will get used to using that as an attention-getter and you'll spoil her."
Adrian sat still for ten whole seconds. "I'm sorry. I can't stand it. I have to go check on her." he said.
"Adrian, really. She's okay. She's just tired." Natalie said. "She will go back to sleep. If she were hurting you could tell it."
"I can't help it. I spent my entire childhood crying out for my parents' love and care. If it spoils her a little, then so be it. I don't want her to feel alone." He said, looking at Natalie with eyes that pleaded for permission to go.
Natalie relented. "Alright. But if you spoil her, don't come complaining to me."
In the nursery, Adrian walked over to Abby's bassinet and picked her up. She stopped crying immediately and flashed the cutest dimpled smile at Adrian, melting his heart. He felt her diaper and she was dry.
"You just wanted to be held, didn't you?" he said as the baby cooed.
He checked on little Lee who had slept through the entire thing.
"Sleeping sound. You get that from your Mama." Adrian said to his little boy, as he held Abby on his shoulder and straightened one of the toys on the mobile which hung above Lee's head.
Walking towards the window, he gently cradled Abby and softly sang a lullaby song to her as he looked out the window at the moon's reflection off the ocean waves.
Go to sleepy little baby…Go to sleepy little baby….
When you wake, we'll patty patty cake…and ride a shiny little pony
As Abby drifted back to sleep, he began to think back to the earlier events of the day; and, he could not help but speculate that there had been some sort of an attack offshore.
The fact that there was a cover story led him to believe that the government was involved and that they were deliberately spreading misinformation for one of two reasons. Either, they were still in the middle of the investigation and did not want to compromise the evidence at hand, or, he thought with a sinking feeling in his heart as he looked down at his baby girl, there was a clear and present danger and they did not want the public to panic. In either case, he wanted to know what the actual story was and planned on using his connections at the DOJ in the morning to try and fish out what really happened at sea.