 
"Church Blood"

Robert C. Waggoner

Copyright by Robert C. Waggoner 2012

Smashwords Edition

Novella

R. C. Waggoner

2012

"Church Blood"

"Death Waits at the Church"

Chapter I

It was close to the witching hour, as he stood in the shadows of the big maple tree watching the front door of the church. As soon as the light went out over the door he would make his move. This was not a well made plan, but more of a spur of the moment thing. He realized if he was normal, he'd never think of committing the murder that was about to unfold.

The light went out and Steve Langley moved quickly and quietly to the side door where Pastor Luke would emerge very soon. As if on cue, Pastor Luke came out, closed the door and turned to lock it. As soon as he turned, Steve buried his Rambo knife in Pastor Luke's back perfectly centered to reach the heart.

Letting Pastor Luke down gently, as if to not hurt him, Steve pulled out the knife rolled him over and deftly castrated him. The message was clear: this man was a child molester hiding behind a white collar.

Pastor Luke was found the next morning by Beatrice [Bee] Woods who volunteered her services to clean and dust after Sunday night's service on Mondays. She was found crumpled on the ground having determined the good Pastor Luke was murdered. She might have withstood the murder, but having taken a closer look between his legs, saw all of his private parts were missing. That was too much for her to stomach and she feinted dead away.

A passer by noticed the two bodies lying near the side door of the church and rightfully called 911 on his cell.

Detective Moss Adams, a true veteran on the city police force, stood about ten feet away staring at the murder victim. It wasn't because he was afraid of viewing the body, but it was just his style to not be so close he couldn't see the forest from the trees. His partner, Stu Williams, was due to retire at the end of this year. As a matter of fact, both should retire. However, the chief always convinced both to stay on for another year. His excuse was the new detectives were long on book learning, but short on common sense. Homicide took a special person to find a killer and that wasn't something you developed over night.

Moss carefully watched his partner Stu examine the body. At the same time, he scanned the crowd to see if any suspicious looking person was watching the police work. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. Stu walked up and said, "Same MO Moss as the other two victims. I really doubt this is a copycat, but the real deal. This Perp has a real hard on for preachers. No pun intended." Moss knew Stu wasn't trying to be funny, it just happened to come out that way.

Moss looked at his silver haired partner who had a clear drip of cold weather snot hanging on the end of his nose. Moss reached up subconsciously to wipe his nose hoping Stu would take the hint. However, with a full moustache, Stu would let the drip fall where it may and at some point in time, he would wipe his nose and what lie underneath it with a clean handkerchief, complements of his ever faithful wife, which Moss envied.

Moss had married young and, sadly, she died young. Now pushing the hard side of his fifth decade, he rather doubted marriage was in his future. He wasn't a bad looking man, as a matter of fact, some said he was rather handsome in an old fashion way. Except for a little paunch, he was still rather well built on a solid six foot frame. Stu, on the other hand was rail thin and had a little of the Napoleon Syndrome.

Moss said, with his hands buried in his overcoat pockets, "Stu, we really need some help on this case. Three clergymen murdered and defiled have brought the city fathers looking for someone's head to blame the lack of a suspect on. We have virtually nothing to go on. This killer always walks on the sidewalk and never leaves a footprint."

Stu peeled off his latex gloves, dug out his handkerchief, wiped his nose then his gave his moustache a nice cleaning while staring off at the medical examiner car arriving. "You know Moss, you and I've been doing this crap for so many years its not even funny anymore, not to suggest, humorous, but we really need to catch a break and like in the past, one will come along. We just need to work harder is all."

Moss followed, with his grey eyes, the medical examiner as she made her way forcefully through the ever increasing crowd of on lookers. Hot on her tail was the cities number one investigative reporter, Miles Milner. Miles took every opportunity to further his position by following the medical examiner through the police tapes as if he were her assistant. Moss smiled as he and Miles were long time friends. In the beginning that was truly not the case as Moss resented his every present interference. But over the years, a common ground was discovered and a relationship blossomed.

A uniformed policeman looked at Moss for permission to let Miles through the tape, Moss nodded and Miles, breathless, hurried to the side of the two detectives. Miles looked up at Moss as if to see if there was any promising lead, but when Moss shook his head, no conversation resulted. All three waited in silence for the medical examiner to finish her business.

Moss looked up at the cloud laden sky so grey it matched both his mood and eyes. For November, it was unusually cold with a threat of snow it seemed to him. He wondered, what is the killer doing about now?

***

Steve was holed up in a low rent district at a hotel that rented rooms by the month. He was watching an old black and white rerun of Amos and Andy while lying on the saggy bed. On his chest a laptop rested waiting for him to turn it on. He closed his eyes and went into dream land.

Two hours later his cell phone vibrated in his pocket waking him up. Without a lot of effort he dug out the phone and placed it his ear knowing full well who was calling. The caller asked, "Did you do your job Steve? I don't see anything on the news about any recent homicide. You didn't get cold feet, now did you?"

Steve hated the gravely voice. Obviously it was altered to not resemble the actual voice, not that Steve really cared one way or the other. Steve said, "Of course I did my job. It's not my fault the media has not run the story. Maybe the next one I'll drag to the newspaper's front door. Now I'm waiting for the bag man to bring me a sack full of green. Also, the next one is going to cost more as the stakes are being raised one by one."

Heavy breathing could be heard and then a voice said, "We'll increase twenty percent and the next contract is waiting on your computer for attention."

Steve put the cell away in his pocket and booted up his laptop. Opening up his e-mail he discovered his next target was a bishop of the local diocese. He raised one eyebrow and thought that this hit would be a little high profile and that he'd best leave town after this one.

Chapter II

Moss, Stu and Milo sat in a dreary coffee shop sipping coffee that should have been thrown out after the morning rush. All three men were used to being given the dregs both with coffee and society. It came with the territory. Moss gave off a sigh and said, "Milo, this is the third one, as you well know. A fourth is just around the corner. I never asked anyone how many churches there are in this city, but no way can we cover all of them. I'm suggesting you print an article that no clergyman is alone at any time of day or night."

Milo scratched his head releasing a small flurry of white stuff. Stu, reached for a napkin to once again do a number on his every dripping nose. "I can surely write the article Moss, but how many will adhere to your suggestion is questionable," he answered.

Moss said, "Stu, you've any ideas? If my math is correct, every five days this guy commits murder. I realize there is a question of child abuse, but that still doesn't give the guy any excuse to take a life. Frankly, it makes me a bit sick. Maybe guys I'm just getting old and fed up with trying to stop or solve a murder case. Right now the captain is looking for me to give him some hope that I can't provide."

"Moss," Miles said, "we have a young guy at the newspaper who keeps bugging me to let him do some real investigative work. What do you suggest I give him to aid in this investigation?"

Stu said, "Have him research all the current heads of the churches here in the city to find any pedophiles that we may have missed." He reached into his pocket for a notebook, slowly put on his half glasses and read out loud, "First we had a Baptist minister, then a Presbyterian minister and the last one was a Pastor of a Methodist church. My guess the next one will be Catholic. I base this on absolutely no basis of fact, but pure speculation."

Moss sat in quiet reflection of his attempt to find God and learn more about this son of God, Jesus Christ. His mother passed on from old age and he remembered that the housekeeper had told him she died with her bible lying across her chest. She'd never pushed the church on her two kids. It was up to each to decide as both her sons were well educated and smart.

Moss failed at giving religion a good shot, but his younger brother married a southern lady who was and still is deeply religious. Now he wondered when the last time he talked to his younger brother. Thanksgiving was coming and maybe he would give him a call.

"Moss, are you still with us or off in some dream land of more pleasant things to think about than church leaders being murdered," Stu asked.

"Sorry guys, just a flash back on a subject that bothered me years ago, but really has no relevance with today's serial killer. I need to go back to the station and face the music. Next thing we know the governor will enter the case."

Miles was left with the tab, but the tip he left was more than the coffee. Actually, the taste that was left in Mile's mouth, after leaving a shocking tip, was much better than the coffee.

Back at the station house, Moss and Stu tried to go to their respective desks in homicide. However, they both were summoned by a uniform to proceed directly to the captain's office. Moss looked at his watch seeing it was a quarter to twelve and hopefully the captain would go to lunch at his regular time: noon.

A brief knock on the captains door brought forth a grouchy enter command. Inside the office the mayor and the homicide lieutenant sat around a small conference table. Both Moss and Stu found chairs and sat side by side facing the conference table. Both the lieutenant and mayor had to turn sideways to face the two detectives. Captain Lewis said, "Moss I really hope you have something good to report. As you can see the heat is on and I'm not going to take all the heat without some of it passing off to our two veteran homicide detectives."

"I wish I had some good news captain, but we're no closer now than after the first church murder. Either this guy is very, very good, or he is being lucky to have not left us one clue," said Moss.

"Detective Moss, said Mayor Vance Smith, "are you saying after three murders you have no one single clue or some tangible path to follow up on?"

"That's exactly correct Mayor Smith. There have been no witnesses, fingerprints, shoeprints, or any trace of a person hanging around waiting for his victim to lay waste to. The only thing we know is that he is using a Rambo type knife and it's with some added strength that he uses to stab the victim. From that we presume the Perp is a male of some physical stoutness."

"I'm getting calls from every church in the city and area," said Mayor Smith. "They're all asking for protection. Have you any idea how many churches there're in this city?"

Milo answered, "As a matter of fact I do know how many churches there're in this city and it would be impossible to provide protection to all of them. Stu here thinks it's time for a Catholic person who would be next on the killer's list. The downside of that is, if the killer sees some or any protection would he not just pass and move on to the next one?"

"We are fairly confident he is targeting pedophiles and let's concentrate on the Catholic side of that equation," said Lieutenant Robin White.

Moss didn't much like his superior Robin White. Not that he was such a bad guy, but he hated a kiss ass whose goal was to climb to the top over whatever bodies lie in his way. Moss knew of two bodies he would never crawl over and both were sitting in the room side by side.

Stu heard his partner's stomach growl and realized neither one of them probably had breakfast or had eaten anything since last night.

As if on cue, Captain Lewis said, "Okay detectives, we have a press conference at five pm. Moss I want you to be there with us as a look of solidarity is focusing on the awful crimes that have been committed. Now let's go to lunch."

After a hearty lunch of soup and sandwich, Moss and Stu went to Pastor Luke's residence. As they drove up and parked, the fingerprint team was just leaving. Small flakes of snow began to fall. Pastor Luke's small house was just a stones throw behind the church. Moss stood and admired the clean look of the yard and around the small house. Few leaves had fallen yet and it still gave off a homey feeling. A uniform was standing on the small porch doing his boring job of keeping out the curious and greedy.

Moss gave him a small smile and friendly greeting. Stu never batted an eye. Moss liked to keep on good terms with everyone if he could. Inside the door the place smelled like lemon wax mixed with incense. Moss looked around as he was standing just inside the front door, but in the living room. Cozy came to mind, as he saw the well used rocking chair and small sofa gathered around a rather small fireplace. The short and narrow mantel held stand up pictures of various people and places. The walls looked like a garage sale of old prints on a flowered wall paper. Like many old houses, light was hard to come by. Small windows and heavy curtains were the norm.

Both Stu and Moss wanted to see where Pastor Luke did his work. Passing down the hall which on the backside of the living room was the kitchen, both men turned at the first door which looked the most traveled on a thread bare carpet. Inside the small room was a desk of some vintage and an old desk top computer full of fingerprint dust. A secretary's chair sat in front of the desk which was placed in front of the small window for best of light.

On the wall next to the desk an old green filing cabinet that had seen better days waited for Stu to investigate. Moss sat at the desk and slowly went from drawer to drawer looking for anything that might lead to a clue to Luke's killer. The sounds of paper being looked at and the slamming of stuck drawers was all that was heard for thirty minutes. Moss was having trouble with the bottom desk drawer as he pulled with force yanking the drawer open and it finally rested on the floor with the back of the drawer and one side disconnected from the once solid drawer. Old bank books and statements littered the floor.

Moss swore under his breath and lifted the remaining parts onto the top of the desk. In doing so, he noticed a large manila envelope taped to the bottom of the drawer. He had his latex gloves on and with his pocket knife, gently sliced the tape away. The flap was sealed but Moss deftly cut the envelope open. He cleared a space on the desk and from the large envelope out came a stack of black and white pictures.

By now Stu had glanced over and saw what Moss had found. He stood over Moss as Moss used a pencil with an eraser to look through photos of child pornography. No words were needed by either man. Both were sickened by the sight before their eyes. This was their first real evidence that the clergy were being targeted for being pedophiles.

Questions raced through both men's heads. Was this a revenge of a family member or was this something bigger than what they imagined was being orchestrated. Stu felt that it was one mans vendetta and as Stu had found a kitchen chair to sit on, they kicked the idea around for awhile. Moss thought it was too well organized and a group, gang or whatever was responsible.

Moss asked, "Did you find anything interesting in the file cabinet?"

"No but I'm going to check out the bottom of the drawers and not leave anything to chance. Also I'm going to pack up that CPU for the hot shot computer guys to see if there are any more secrets the good pastor possessed."

Chapter III

Bishop Megi Costoni had never once feared for his life until word of the latest serial killers murder of Pastor Luke. He didn't know Pastor Luke, but felt in his body that this serial killer was targeting pedophiles. As much as he hated to admit it, he was one.

Now as he sat at his desk, doodling on a legal pad, he wondered what he could do to leave town for awhile. However he was chosen as the guest speaker in five days time to address a gathering of potential priests from a local seminary. There simply was no way he could dodge this one. One thing he promised himself was to vary his schedule and not be predictable.

Tonight he was scheduled for dinner with the cities Mayor and the city council. The mayor was keen to purchase an empty lot across from St. Michael's church for transition into a park. Of course the park would have the mayor name on it.

Bishop Costoni went up to his room to change into something a little more formal. His suits came from his beloved Italy along with his shoes and shirts. All were custom tailored just for him. His family dated back many generations of olive growers and he liked to show off whenever he could.

He had an hour to get ready so he took a long shower and a fresh shave. He wore a dark grey suit with his white collar. A striking off shade of violet and white silk shirt made him look more like a vendor than that of a priest.

As he descended the wooden stair case he noticed how dark it was outside. Well, winter is coming he said to no one as he pulled on his cashmere over coat. He securely locked the front door and walked to the side where his car waited. As he opened the door of his car, he felt a nagging pain suddenly in his back. His knees got weak and someone let him down easy to the cement driveway. By the time he was let down to the driveway, Bishop Costoni, fifty two, was lifeless.

Quickly but not in a big hurry, Steve did as he was instructed and deftly castrated the bishop placing the private parts in his mouth. Steve cleaned his knife off using the custom suit and silently left the scene. That was two hits in one day, he thought. Time for me to hit the road he thought as he smiled wondering what the cops would think now with two dead clergymen in one day.

***

At a swank steak house downtown, Mayor Smith wondered what was keeping the bishop. It wasn't usual for the bishop to be late. Mayor Smith dug out his cell and rang up the good bishop. After a customary ten rings he closed his phone. Then he had a sinking feeling something was not right with the bishop. He opened his phone again and called the captain. The captain was still at his office at the station so he had a cruiser go by the bishop's house to check it out.

Moss was relaxing in his recliner reading the evening paper with the TV on mute. The only sound he could hear was the old clock on the wall tick ticking away. A grey cat was curled up on his lap purring away. The cat was the last attachment he had with his past away wife. Nowadays Moss felt much like a cat does with a, don't give a shit attitude, about any and all things. It wasn't that Moss was depressed, but he saw himself as treading water in life. Retirement made him shudder. What the hell I would do, he wondered, as his home phone rang scaring the cat who leaped out of his lap leaving claw marks in Moss's thigh.

Moss tossed the paper to the floor and raised his recliner to the full sit up position as his captain told him about the latest homicide. He gave off a sigh and was told Stu would pick him in a few minutes.

He stood up and took stock of himself. The tie was gone, but the shirt was still fairly fresh looking. He brushed off the cat hair and went to the closet to find his shoes. Instead of his suit coat, he put on an old Navy Pea Coat that smelled of old mothballs. Moss had to suck it in a bit as he buttoned up his old Navy coat. Not bad, he thought. I'm almost the same size as I was forty years ago smiling to himself.

Off the top of the shelf he found his old blue navy stocking hat and pulled it on as well. He heard the horn honk and went out the front door feeling kind of giddy. Automatically he set the deadbolt and the silent alarm. In the short walk to Stu's car, he almost turned and waved at his wife who, if still alive, would have been standing waving to him with a big smile and fearful eyes, hoping against all odds, he would return safe and sound to her.

Stu said, "My God Moss, you smell like old moth balls. Roll down your window please. Where the hell did you get that old coat?"

Moss wasn't the least offended and replied, "This is my old Navy coat and hat. The weather is anything but comfortable to my old bones and wool is the best medicine for old farts to be wrapped up in on a cold night like this."

Stu actually chuckled at Moss's humor. "What do we have Moss? The dispatcher just told me to pick you up and that was all."

"We have another homicide like the others. Only this time, as you so speculated, it's a Catholic bishop. That's all I know. I presume you have the address?"

They rode in silence the rest of the way. A slight drizzle was falling and Moss could see that it was mixed with ice as it hit the windshield. He felt nice and warm in his coat and with the heater on, he was starting to doze off when Stu parked his car with an over zealous push on the brakes to wake his partner up.

To Moss the scene looked like something out of the movies. There were lights and people everywhere moving around, including a bevy of news media, long necking their way for a better look.

Walking up a slight incline to the driveway, Moss first saw the mayor being interview by the news media with the captain standing at his side. Moss ducked under the police tape and followed Stu to the body lying next to a car. The first thing Moss said to a uniform was, "Put up a screen around the victim. The last thing we need is to see on the news is a castrated Catholic bishop with his penis in his mouth."

In short order a tarp was found and placed so the news media could not view the body. Moss stepped back and let Stu take over. While scanning the crowd, he saw his captain motion to him to join the interview. Moss shook his head. The captain scowled at him and turned back to the cameras.

Stu came and said, "Same thing Moss. A knife in the back and then, mutilation after death, thank god. This one is going to have the proverbial shit hit the fan. Man that's two in one day and we have nothing to go on. I should have retired when I had the chance. Now we'll both be lucky to be back in uniform patrolling the streets of this city. Oh, my, here comes the captain now. I'm going back for another look and let you talk to him.

"Thanks Stu. I'll remember this moment and remind you what a water ass you are someday, "Moss said with a grin.

"Moss," the captain asked, "do we have anything to go on. I need something to feed the press."

"Captain, tell the press this, we have a person of interest and we hope to have him in for questioning by tomorrow afternoon. After the autopsy we'll have a statement to make," said Moss with a straight face.

"God help us and I'll pass this on to the mayor. You know Moss; both of our asses are on the line here."

"I realize that captain, but in my case it really doesn't matter anymore. I lost my life when my wife died. Hang me out to dry if you like. Now back to this case. I think our killer has moved on to greener pastures. If my hunch is correct, this is a hired assassin and we are in way over our heads. We need the FBI on this case. Now if you'll excuse me I'll see what, if anything has been discovered."

Miles, Moss noticed was waving his arms frantically trying to get his attention. The police had strict orders not to let any press in and that included Miles Milner. Moss gave him a five minute sign and Miles relaxed.

The medical examiner had done her job and told Moss nothing different from the others. He thanked her and slowly walked down the driveway to talk to Miles.

"Is it true the victim is Bishop Costoni," asked Miles when he deemed it prudent to ask Moss a question out of ear shot.

"Yes, it's true. Same MO. Have you anything to add Miles? You were waving at me like a drowned man at sea so I thought maybe your hotshot newbie reporter discovered something?"

"As a matter of fact he did. He researched a popular mercenary rag and found out a few months ago an ad for a special kind of person who used stealth instead of plastic explosives. So far he has traced the source to Europe and that's all for the moment."

Moss digested the information and nodded thanks to Miles. Stu walked up and both detectives went to Stu's car. There really wasn't anything for the two detectives to do but go home and get some much needed rest.

***

Steve always traveled light, but not so light someone might think he was a drifter. He carried a zip up bag that had enough clothes and needed items for a few days if necessary. He used Amtrak rather than air travel. No metal detectors were the main reason. Also he could get privacy in a single cabin and not be bothered. Now as he boarded an all nighter to North Carolina he gave himself a pat on the back for a good job well done.

He went back over the last e-mail from the client. His next target was a high profile evangelist who rocked em on TV. After this one he could retire if he watched his spending habits. Steve remembered the days of being an auto worker. He'd made good money and had a family or sorts. After he lost his job, thanks to Lehman, his wife left him and then finally the dog ran way too.

He smiled thinking about the time spent in Iraq as a sniper and hit man. The training the army gave him was second to none. Then one day, while surfing the internet, he came across an advertisement for a person of specific abilities. One thing led to another and he was hired. The rest is history, so to speak, he thought. Now with four hits under his belt he was beginning to think he was invincible.

Chapter IV

Moss woke up with a headache and a stiff neck He blamed it on the cold dank weather of being tributary to the Great Lakes region. He'd never been to Arizona, but if he had to retire, then he would go check it out. He could never take staying in this house knowing that life outside the door was passing him by like clouds in a storm. Moss glanced at the bedside clock thankful it had see-in-the-dark green numbers and hands. He always felt lucky to get four to six hours of good sleep these days. His wife's cat lay next to his leg sleeping his life away.

Moss got up and shuffled to the bathroom. In the hall he turned on the oil heat and after his shower, the small house would be nice and toasty. He let the hot water run until it turned cold. He turned the water off and soaped up, then in a rush, turned the water back on rinsing off first with warm then cold water. It was his way of waking up and loosing his stiff joints.

Getting dressed he put his long handles on knowing it was going to be a cold day. First he'd have to hang out at the coroner's workshop and that place was always chilly. Then they would investigate the bishop's house for any clues.

In his kitchen the damn cat sat at his bowl meowing for food. Moss did his job and fed the cat from a sack of dry food under the sink. He'd turned on the tea pot for hot water; popped some toast in the toaster, opened the fridge to see if any eggs were still there and then shut the door after finding basically an empty egg carton.

Well, he thought, toast and instant coffee will have to do until I can swing by and wolf down some breakfast at the Golden Arches.

Moss loved his old Range Rover. It had served him well over the years. In later years his wife complained it was hard to get into so he had some special steps added on both sides for ease of entry. As he made his way through the line of cars to retrieve his Egg McMuffin and coffee he stared at the young girl who took his money and gave him his food and drink. She barely looked old enough to meet the age requirements, and then he saw the marks of acne and wished her well. She gave him a confused look and he drove to the back of the parking lot to eat his breakfast and watch the cars. It kept his mind sharp guessing what each occupant did for work or whatever came to his mind.

His cell went off as he finished up his sausage and cheese muffin. His caller ID said it was the captain calling. He told the captain good morning and was instructed to meet at the bishop's house. Stu called next and asked to be picked up at the station house.

On the way to the bishop's house, Stu told him that he was going to retire as soon as the paper work was processed. Moss said, "Yes, Stu, it's about time for me to do the same thing, but I hate to quit in the middle of a case."

"I agree, but my wife is adamant that I retire. I know Moss if your wife was alive, she would be putting the same pressure on you as my wife is to me."

"I can't argue that Stu. Any idea where you will, go or just stay put?"

"Florida is where we are going. My oldest son has a small orange farm and needs some help. A caretaker's cottage is next door so we will live there."

As they pulled up on the street and parked far enough away from the police tape, both slowly made it to the front door of the bishop's house. Inside the house was a flurry of activity. Moss was a little taken aback by the amount of people running around. The captain saw him and motioned him over while talking to a buzz cut, black suited FBI agent. Moss always wondered why they gave away who they were working for. The black clothes along with the close cropped hair were dead giveaways to the bad guys.

The captain introduced him to the 'Special Agent' in charge. Moss noted the heavy on the 'special' part of the name. However, Moss wouldn't hold that against him. Secretly he was glad they were on board and none of this turf fighting stuff for him. The FBI had their work cut out for them with this one.

Special Agent Tim Solder immediately cast his eyes up and down Moss. Moss caught the look that said, 'no wonder they called us in' insinuation that was obvious to both he and the captain. Moss let it go and with a smile said, "Glad you're on board Agent Tim. I'm sure the captain already offered whatever help we can lend; just say the word and we will do our best."

"Well right now we need a profiler on this case and then we can concentrate on that information. Meanwhile, I'd like to sit down and here what you have to say Detective Moss."

Moss was a little shocked to hear that this guy wanted his input. Maybe, just maybe he'd misjudged this Tim guy. He said, "I'm available anytime and when you and the captain are finished let's find the kitchen and make a cup of coffee. After that we can go to the autopsy for a first hand look at the killer's handiwork."

Without disturbing too much, Moss found some coffee mugs and instant coffee. He microwave some hot water and by the time he had two hot cups ready, Agent Tim came in and sat down rather heavily at the small kitchen table.

Milo anticipated his first question by stating, "I think Agent Tim this had the earmarks of a conspiracy rather that one man's vendetta against pedophiles. It's too well planned to be a random affair. Somewhere there's a group who have decided its pay back time on clergymen who prey on children. Where to look is anyone's guess and I've no idea about that. What I do know is even if we take this guy down, who's to say another one will not pop up right behind him."

"What you are saying, detective Moss, is we have a bigger problem than a serial killer on our hands."

"I could be wrong, you know. I'm an old timer now, but not without some experience."

"Yes, your reputation precedes you Moss. I've read your record and its impressive regards homicide to conviction record. I'd like you to sit at a desk and use your brain rather than doing the leg work. We've lots of folks to do the leg work."

"Sounds good to me. If it's clear with the captain I'll return to the station house and wait for your arrival for the autopsy."

On the way back to the station, Moss filled Stu in on what had transpired. Stu breathed a sigh of relief and said, "This'll be relief to all of us. I've some vacation time coming and will by the end of the shift be relaxing at home listening to my wife complain about this and that. I'll fool her though; my son said I needed to learn Spanish. He sent some CD's and other things; like head phones to listen and repeat kind of thing. I'm sure Moss you get my drift?"

Sitting behind his old grey metal desk, Moss felt like he was a hundred years old. He watched Stu fill out his retirement forms and even envied him, just a little. Milo looked around and saw nothing but young faces and very few old timers anymore. Glancing down he saw the morning edition displaying a front page picture of the bishop's house and car in driveway. The improvised screen blocked any view of the body.

The article was written by Miles and mentioned that the FBI was getting involved. I wonder how he knew that, Moss thought. While he read, Miles walked in and sat down at the side of Moss's desk. He was rather out of breath as the homicide room was on the second floor with no elevator. Moss said, "Miles, you are pitifuly out of shape. Even I don't huff and puff so much coming up one flight of stairs. Now, what have you got that you couldn't wait to tell me?"

"My boy researcher has come up with something rather interesting. It seems some activists were very vocal about a year ago considering religious leaders as pedophiles. Then suddenly, all was quiet; like they disbanded or were silenced somehow. My boy has a friend in Boston who claims an underground group of high profile businessmen have declared war on pedophiles who are leaders of a church. Now, remember Moss, these are only rumors and not to be taken as fact, but it's worth looking into don't you think?"

Moss had blocked out all sounds of the squad room and was deep in thought. All rumors or fairy tales have a certain truth about part of the story, so why not this one. The 'where' was Boston, but the 'who' was a bigger question. Moss shuddered and was glad he would not be part of the investigation into a radical group of high powered businessmen hiring hit men to eliminate religious pedophiles that hid behind their uniform to prey on innocent victims.

"If that is the case Miles, we are in over our grey heads. You're right about the FBI being involved and I've been relegated to warm the bench while they go about solving this murder spree."

"You're off the case then," Miles asked.

"No not off, but set aside is closer to the truth. I brought up the conspiracy theory and I think the FBI had already come to that conclusion. Miles, if we look at it from start to the bishop, the victims are progressively higher profile that the previous one. That means, if my theory is correct, we are in for an earth shaker very soon."

"God help us and the pun is intended. Well, Moss I have to run now. Let's meet up for dinner if you have time. I should have some tid bits for you by then. Hang in there old friend. Neither of us has been put to pasture yet, but it sure seems like the fields are just around the corner."

***

Amtrak jolted to stop making sure everyone was woken up. Steve rubbed his eyes and looked out the window to a station that was packed with commuters on a Monday morning. He was where he was supposed to be. With a pocket full of money, he decided to upgrade his accommodations from one star to three or higher.

Steve caught a taxi and told the driver to take him somewhere near the evangelist Hugh Rivers did his shows for TV. Steve tried to make it sound like he was a fan and desired an autograph. The taxi man said he knew just the hotel not a stones throw away from where the famous Hugh Rivers spoke God's word to the masses. In no time Steve learned the taping schedule and when it would be a good time to get an autograph.

Steve, settled into his upgraded hotel, he decided to splurge and order room service for breakfast. He was beginning to like this attention he was getting. However, he shouldn't have been surprised to know if you have money, people fall all over you hoping to catch a few crumbs. When he took a shower and looked into the mirror, he really didn't recognize the face that stared back at him. Then he realized he was not the same guy he once was. In his dark mind he had evolved into something that other people envied.

Steve found himself walking around a giant office building that housed the famous Hugh Rivers Empire. He decided he needed some time to set up the hit and one way was to see what his schedule was like for the week. Steve thought correctly that this guy would travel by limo and he found the limo parked in front of the building with a chauffer slowly wiping the dust off a spotless car.

Steve realized he looked out of place without a suit on. Maybe it was time for a disguise. Nothing drastic, maybe moustache and glasses with a suit might fit the bill. He passed by the front of the building looking neither left or right. He flagged down a taxi and told the guy to take him to a JC Penny store.

He got lucky after the department store he found in the same mall a costume store. He found what he was looking for giving the sales lady a song and dance story of a late costume party. With his new suit and accessories he went back to the hotel.

Before venturing back to the high rise, he decided to try out his new look in a restaurant that catered to 'suits'.

Steve was quietly pleased as he left the restaurant feeling full and satisfied he passed the test. With his new attaché case in hand, empty except for a legal pad and a few pens, he walked with purpose to the high rise.

The chauffer was still there with the trunk up polishing his boss's golf clubs. It was time to case the place and see what was what. The first obstacle was a check in counter and a metal detector. He'd left his weapon back at the hotel wrapped in oil skin hidden in the water tank of the toilet. He scanned the tenant board and found that his target occupied the top two floors.

This place could not be a kill zone so he decided to wait and see where he lived. Steve was smart enough to know that his residence would be full of security, but an opportunity always existed somewhere at sometime. He had a lot of time and money.

Back in the lobby of his hotel, he found out that a tour bus made the rounds of high profile people and their residences. His target was among those listed for viewing. Inside his grip he wrote down the phone number and address, used the pay phone and made reservation for the next day.

Steve noted the address of his target and after a three hour boring bus ride, he took a taxi back near the address to look around. This was a neighborhood without a lot of foot traffic but he really needed a lay of the land.

The "Rivers Haven" as it was dully noted on the cast Iron Gate was full of security cameras. Dogs were his main concern, not cameras. Like a tourist, he used his disposal camera to take pictures. He moved closer to see if any dogs would visit him. A voice warned him to try not to enter as the grounds were patrolled by guard dogs. Steve backed off not wanting to draw any attention to him.

Back at the hotel, he was in a dilemma as to what to do. It didn't appear he could get close to this guy. He decided to send an e-mail and ask for advice. An hour later he was told that he could pick up a package at the Greyhound bus terminal the next day. Steve was traveling on a bogus ID and the package would have that name on it.

It was now Wednesday the day before Turkey Day. Steve picked up his package and went directly back to his hotel. Inside he found a M24 Sniper Weapon used by the army. He felt like he was back in Iraq when he held the sweet smelling rife. He carefully and gingerly put it together then wondered if it was sighted in. A note typed on a word processor said, "This rifle has been sighted in."

Now all he needed was a location to take the shot from and an exit to depart from. That night Steve slept with his new friend and companion, M24.

Chapter V

Moss and Miles were enjoying an Italian dinner. This was Moss and his wife's favorite restaurant. Even though he felt some pangs of loss, he fought the emotion and enjoyed the dinner with his friend. Miles, between courses, said, "If the rumors are true, then this consortium of activists is extremely high profile. It's difficult for me to pursue this story as facts are hard to come by. Unless you have some ideas Moss, I'm going to let this one go."

"I've not a lot of sympathy for the victims who were accused of being pedophiles, but the law is the law and we have to uphold what was laid down to us. The FBI is a government agency that is sworn to uphold our laws. It's up to them to catch this bad guy and various other participants. Me, I'm going to follow Stu and retire."

"What will you do Moss?"

"I'm going to go to the southwest and bask in the dry desert weather. I've a distant relative who is a rock hound and it's about time I found something else to sink my teeth into. I'm going to sell the house, buy a medium sized motor home, load the damn cat into it and drive off seeking the sunset."

"You never fail to surprise me Moss. I suppose it's about time we both hung it up. What would say if I followed you in about a year's time? Meanwhile, we can communicate via the internet."

With a big mouthful of garlic bread, Moss mumbled that it was fine with him and he would be happy to spend time together. He reminded Miles he was his only real friend. Miles turned a little red in the cheek took a gulp of red wine and gave Moss a smile of acknowledgement.

***

Steve took Thursday off and found a restaurant that served turkey. He felt a little sad as this was supposed to be a time with family. He momentarily wondered where his wife and two kids were. His dinner arrived and all thoughts were lost as he wolfed down the hot turkey sand with mashed potatoes.

Friday Steve was positioned across the street from the good Reverend Hugh Rivers high rise building. Over his suit and tie, he had on coveralls acting like a worker carrying a tool box to an empty office four floors above ground.

Steve was perfectly calm and relaxed. He would take the shot, leave the rifle and coveralls, and slowly descend the stairs with his attaché case in hand. By the time he got to the sidewalk, he rightfully figured many people would be staring across the street and he would be one of the curious. Afterwards he would move on walking down the street to his hotel. He guessed he had about two hours before they locked down the city and all exits out of it. By then he would be on Amtrak headed west.

Evangelist Hugh Rivers exited his limo and stood waving to the onlookers with a capped smile displaying perfect teeth. The day was cloudy and cool. He wore a camel colored overcoat and no hat revealing a full head of hair. Not his own hair, but a transplant crop to make him appear younger than his fifty plus years. Steve took aim and placed a bullet in Hugh River's heart. A pop was heard, but no one really put two and two together until his chauffeur looked down at his boss crumpled on the parking lot. At first he thought his boss had a heart attack, but then he saw the hole in the coat. He screamed Hugh had been shot and to call an ambulance.

Steve, by this time, had exited the office and was walking down the stairs like an ordinary business man. Outside a crowd was gathering and ten minutes later he was not far from his hotel.

By ten am he was aboard the west bound Amtrak on a coast to coast run. At noon he sat in the dinning car drinking coffee and connected to the wifi with his laptop. After lunch an e-mail came in congratulating him on a good job. He was ordered to debark in Phoenix and wait for further instructions.

***

By that same Friday after Thanksgiving, Moss had left his house in the hands of real-estate people, found a motor home, hooked up his Range Rover to the back, and hit the road to Arizona with his cat. His son was coming up to clean out the house of mementoes so he left feeling both secure and lonesome.

He left his e-mail with the Special Agent Tim, but really didn't think he would hear from him. Little did Moss realize how wrong he was.

The winter weather was threatening as he rolled west bound on I-80. A light rain was falling and once again it was mixed with ice. Moss was relaxed and felt good about changing his life at this point in time. The stress he left behind was gone and good radiance. One thing that nagged at him was leaving his wife and not being able to visit her grave. However, he smiled; on the dashboard he'd taped a picture of her with the worthless cat in her arms.

His stomach growled and a truck stop loomed just ahead. He pulled off giving himself a lot of room to slow down. He found an easy place to park and told the cat he'd be back in a little while.

Moss bought a paper and found a booth out of the way of the main traffic of truckers coming and going. While waiting for the waitress to come by, he read the startling headlines of the assassination of the evangelist Hugh Rivers. Moss scratched his head wondering if this was part of the same group that did the four homicides in his city. This victim, however, had been shot and not stabbed. He needed to think about it, and then as the waitress appeared, he wondered why he should even think about it at all.

Moss ate a light lunch as sitting all day didn't include a lot of exercise. Most of the truckers, he saw, had more than a few extra pounds pushing their shirts out front. He finished up lunch and filled up his thermos with coffee. Entering the motor home the cat was up and crying for either something to eat or needed to make a deposit of some sort. He'd bought a special litter box and brought his old cat bowl. Moss filled up the cat bowl and sat down in his driver's seat.

Like a good truck driver, he checked his mirrors and gently pulled out onto the freeway accelerating rather hard to merge with the traffic. He couldn't quit thinking about the assassination in North Carolina. Did it tie in with the others somehow? It seems strange that this homicide happened not long after the bishop was killed, he thought. Moss decided to give Stu a call and see what he thought. Where Stu would be about now, he wondered. He'd left a couple days before Moss did so he would probably be in Florida by now.

It rained all the way to Des Moines, Iowa. Moss was dead tired and a handy truck stop served a great need for him to rest. He went out like a light and it was just breaking daylight when he woke to a clear and sky blue day.

What Moss found out that most truck stops had showers. After a fill up and a few bucks, which produced unlimited hot water, he felt much better. The motor home bathroom was for midgets and not for husky guys like him. This would be a good test of what he liked and disliked about motor homes. He had a friend in Okie City and had agreed to spend a day with him.

Moss emptied the solid part of the litter box, filled up the cat dish and hit the road southbound on I-35. Comfortably cruising, he reflected on his call to his former partner Stu. Stu was happy to hear from him and before Moss could get a word in edge wise, Stu told him Florida was not for them. In fact they had bought a motor home and were headed west. He suggested if it worked out, they would meet up in Phoenix for a get together.

Finally at the end of the conversation Stu thought the assassination on Rivers was part of the overall plan to rid the world of scum bags like him. It was widely rumored that Rivers was gay and preferred the younger generation. Even though he had a wife, which was just a front. Stu had told him the world was a better place without the evangelist and that he would lose no sleep over the loss.

By noon Moss was famished. He saw a Denny's sign and as luck would have a newbie motor home driver, he found a parking strip that would accommodate his outfit. Moss did a once over to check the hitch and all the tires. Then he shaded his eyes from the sun, shivered a little from the cold air that had settled over the mid west and went in for lunch. At the newsstand he found a New York Times and after plugging the money in withdrew the news bible of the USA.

On the inside he saw an interview with the special agent from the FBI with whom he had briefly met back home. The agent speculated that this was the work of the same serial killer and that more man power than ever was working on the case. Of course the interviewer asked the ridiculous question about where the killer would strike next.

Moss looked up as his lunch arrived and wolfed it down like there was not much time left in the day for him to eat. He sat back and wondered where the killer would strike next and how much higher would he go with high profile victims? Or would he fool them all and go back to the ordinary preacher who was a known pedophile. Like everything, as he slid out of the booth to pay his tab, time would tell.

Once again as Moss entered the motor home, the cat was yowling his head off. Patience he told himself. Maybe his friend in Oklahoma would take the miserable fur bag off his hands.

***

Steve slept like a log for twelve hours. It was dark when he woke up, but he was hungry. The dinning car was closed, but he had a plastic wrapped sandwich and cold milk in the snack bar.

He'd brought his lap top with him and checked his e-mail only to find nothing there. Well, time for a break he thought. Later taking a rest he thought about an old friend from Arizona. Maybe would hang around for a few days with him. Now all he had to do was locate him.

At six pm Saturday evening, Steve sat in the dinning car waiting for his dinner. The conductor had announced that they were now in Oklahoma and would stop soon at Oklahoma City station. The train was slowly moving through the city passing many intersections. Coincidentally, Moss was sitting at a railroad crossing having gotten lost trying to find his friends place of business. Steve for a brief moment saw a motor home towing a Range Rover and both Moss and Steve held eye contact for a fraction of a second.

***

In Boston that same Saturday in early December, at a very exclusive private club, three men sat in comfortable arm chairs in front of a gas fire in the library. All three had been members since their birth and had inherited the exclusive membership via their family positions. To say they were part of the founding fathers would be correct. To say they were staunch Catholics would also be true. More importantly, they all were very disappointed that so many clergy were pedophiles. All three were so disappointed they decided to do something about it.

The eldest one said, just loud enough that both the other two could hear him, "We seem to be doing fairly well my friends; how do you feel about continuing our little game of retribution?"

The youngest at seventy two responded saying, "I say full steam ahead and damn the torpedoes."

The middle of the two said, "I say we lay low and let the world respond to our past deeds. However, that's the easy way out. There's no way they can trace us so as a convention of religious leaders are meeting in Phoenix, let's give them a welcome they won't forget."

***

Miles Milner sat glued to his chair surfing the internet for religious groups who might be holding a convention somewhere. Next to him his research boy, Andy Corbin, slid his chair over and handed his boss a print out of a Cardinal convention scheduled for the week after Christmas in Phoenix, Arizona.

Miles eyes opened wide open revealing how really blood shot his eyes were. He said, "Good work Andy. I think you're on to something here. Let's keep doing our research, but find out where, when, how many and all the other answers we need to present our case to the editor."

Andy's face turned red with the compliment and went back to his favorite toy. He loved his job and was thrilled to have discovered something that his boss liked. By the end of the day he had all the answers that involved the religious convention in Arizona.

Miles sent an e-mail to Moss outlining what he had discovered. He didn't fail to mention that his boy Andy had found the event.

***

Moss finally found his friend's place of business in a strip mall that afforded him a place to park.

His friend, Stanley Oliver, was a private investigator, but formally a homicide detective from Cleveland that had, unfortunately, taken a bribe from a drug lord. His daughter had an incurable disease that took a lot of money to keep her alive. Stanley was desperate and got caught. To save face, he retired quietly and moved to Oklahoma. Moss had met him at police convention and they struck up a friendship. The friendship survived the next fifteen years, but the daughter passed on many years ago.

Stanley held out his meaty hand to Moss and smiled revealing a pleasant appearance. Moss said, "Well Stanley, you seem to have weathered the age storm."

"Nice to see you all in one piece Moss. We've a lot to catch up on and lock up your motor home you're coming home with me."

"Well Stanley, I've got a damn cat in there. It was my wife's cat and I can't seem to find a good home for it. Let me make sure it has water and food before we leave."

"Bring it with you Moss. We have, god knows, how many cats running around our place. We have a small ranch just outside of town with a barn for animals. My wife has two horses and loves animals. I'll meet you with my car at your motor home."

A half hour later they pulled into a well taken care of small Ranchette subdivision, as the sign said. "This looks like a nice place to live Stanley. I presume you are happy here?"

"Very much so Moss. After Cleveland, we found a second chance in life. I'm just sorry it took my daughters life to make the change," he answered with a choked voice of emotion.

They pulled up next to the barn and as Moss were holding the fur ball, Stanley's wife walked out of the barn to say hello. Actually this was his first time to meet Stanley's wife. She was rather tall and strikingly handsome in her tight Lee jeans and cowboy boots.

Moss was having a hard time holding onto the damn cat when Gail relieved him of his burden. The cat relaxed knowing full well he was in good hands and probably thought he had found a new friend. Moss said a silent prayer that he'd finally got rid of the cat.

It was still a bit chilly out so they ate inside while Stanley barbequed some wonderful steaks that he'd received as part payment for a case he worked on. After dinner, his wife and daughter went back to the barn to brush and feed the horses and other animals.

Stanley and Moss went to the family room and he poured Moss an after dinner drink of brandy. Moss stayed quiet as he felt that Stanley had something important to say.

It wasn't long before Stanley said, "Moss I know you said you had retired and were thinking about relocating to Arizona. I'd like you to listen to a proposal I have for you. First let me tell you I'm a full partner and have three other partners in our business. That makes four total. We have offices here and in Texas, Arizona and one in California. We'd like to open another one in Phoenix. Most of our work is with corporations digging up information, but we hire research guys for those jobs. Our forte is missing persons. Mostly we find the kids of run a way rich people and bring them back. A rare occasion is when spouse goes missing and then it can get a bit messy, but never really dangerous. Does this sound of any interest to you Moss?"

Moss expected something like this but wasn't prepared to consider a job offer only a few days since he retired. Moss said, "Stanley, it sounds interesting and if I may, let me give it some thought for a couple days. By the way, I appreciate your offer to an old timer like me. I know you've read about the serial killer doing away with clergy. I just couldn't take it any more Stanley. That type of case is for young guys and not for me. Stu Williams,, my partner has retired to Florida and he's not happy picking oranges with the Mexicans." Moss laughed and so did Stanley.

"Would you consider the two of us? Stu is on his way to Phoenix as we sip our brandy. It'd be kind of a two for one sale as neither one of us is hard pressed for money."

"We would be happy to have him and of course you too. It's hard to find reliable help and as we deal in a lot of cash, honest investigators are even harder to find. You have my e-mail, phone numbers and address. I'll wait anxiously to hear from you. Of course all expenses of secretary, office and equipment would be company paid for."

Chapter VI

A couple days later Moss found a RV park and paid for a weeks stay. This was all new stuff for him, but as soon as he pulled in a very friendly silver hair woman smiled at him as he entered her office. He introduced himself and told her he was a complete newbie at this RV game. A big map took up one wall and on the map stick pins with names dotted the map. She wrote his name and space number then told him to follow her.

It was pleasantly warm in Arizona and as Ms. Silver hair, Moss immediately forgot her name, drove out of the carport in an electric golf cart, he followed her to his spot.

It was a drive through space and not far from the laundry and shower room. Silver hair showed him how to hook up the water and electricity. The previous owner had all the necessary equipment to make it level and stationary. With some sweat running off him, two hours later Moss had it where it was level. A small parking area was next to his motor home for his Range Rover.

After a shower and change of clothes, Moss drove out to find something to eat. He was not ready yet for cooking, but thought he might stop at the supermarket for some cereal and milk.

Returning Moss booted up his laptop and checked his inbox. A message from Miles and Stu were waiting for him along with a message from his son. He read his son's first and thanked him for a job well done. He added his new address and said he would get a new cell phone soonest he could.

Stu was next saying he was in Texas and would be in Phoenix in a couple of days. Moss gave him the address of the RV Park and then he read Miles with keen interest. Moss sat back contemplating what Miles had sent him. If in fact the next assassination would take place right here in Phoenix. How ironic he thought. The old run but you can't hide adage hit home. The next thing will be his FBI friend Tim banging on his door for help. Then he thought, don't flatter yourself Moss, they don't need you anymore.

He decided to take a short walk around the Park and see what was happening at eight pm at night. As was a habit, he put on a wind breaker, but there was no need for a coat. The night was warm, but a little smoggy. However, looking up he could see many stars that when before he never noticed living in a city. The RV Park was about half full he guessed. Most had lights on and some people were sitting outside chatting with a neighbor. To Moss it felt nice and friendly as most were old people like himself. He said hello and or a nod passing by. His thoughts were on Stanley and the arrival of his former partner Stu.

This could be a real major life changing experience and secretly was a little excited about the promising future. Moss ended his walk and checked his inbox for messages. Nothing there so he went to bed. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought of his cat and sort of missed the company.

The next morning Moss awoke to a bright sun pouring into his back bedroom window. He looked for his old clock and discovered it missing, but saw his old cell phone instead. By his calculation he had had ten hours of wonderful sleep.

After a hot shower, then his usual cold water wake up, Moss felt like a new man. He fully expected Stu today and then they would hash over the new job prospect. But first he had an address given to him by Stanley for the office location. He would drive by and check it out. Now it was time for breakfast and he was happy he got some cereal and milk. Eating out was not his favorite thing to do and it was time to stock up on food.

Moss had really never looked the motor home over before. Now he examined the small fridge first and frowned at its smallness. The stove burners seemed ok and the cupboards were adequate for his needs; as was the table.

Moss sat down and made a list of things to do and buy. His love of coffee hadn't gone away so he decided to splurge for some beans, grinder and drip for his daily needs of caffeine. The kitchen supplies were a one stop affair at a department store. Plastic plates and set of four would suffice his needs in all things.

A city map would be nice he thought. He drove around until he found a tourist information place and stocked up on maps of all kinds. Moss followed signs to city hall and then found the local FBI office. Moss was using his lap top and a physical map to find the address Stanley had given him. Thirty minutes later he found a strip mall and at the end of the mall stood a two story red brick building nicely designed with dark glass windows.

Moss parked in front, stepped out, noticing anchoring the strip mall was a dollar store. He walked into the brick building and went to the wall that listed the buildings tenets. The first floor seemed rather full, but the second floor appeared mostly vacant. Moss climbed the marble stair case and looked around the second floor. The place smelled new and fresh was making him feel a little giddy at wondering if he would have an office here.

Back outside he went to both the supermarket and dollar store. An hour later he was back on the road to his RV Park. Moss was a little surprised when he parked his Rover and saw a smiling Stu waiting for him. They shook hands and Stu pointed to a motor home parked not far away as being his and his wife's new home on wheels. Stu helped him carry in his newly purchased good then they sat down to talk a little business.

An hour later they both decided to accept the job offer and Moss sent an e-mail to Stanley. Moss made coffee and told Stu to ask his wife if she would like a cup. Stu said she was a bit under the weather with all the traveling and such things, but he would go ask her.

A short knock and both Stu and his wife Karen came into the motor home which smelled like fresh ground coffee. Karen commented on the aroma and she did appear to be a little pale. Moss said, "I'm new at this coffee grinding thing, so let's see what we get." The grinding was the worst part as it grated on the nerves. He decided to buy it ground and forget the hassle of grinding the coffee beans.

"This is very tasty Moss," Karen said. "I'm tired of instant coffee and Stu we need to upgrade our lives a little. I'm tired of pinching pennies. Let's live a little now that we are retired."

Moss looked at Stu and Stu looked at Moss. Both wondered where that came from as Karen was usually a very quiet and polite woman. Stu winked at Moss and then said, "By God honey, you're right. Let's not want for anything so right after we buy a car, let's go shopping."

They all three laughed and spent the next hour talking about the new job offer. Moss's laptop was sitting on the floor next to the table when they heard a mail come in. Moss read the mail and said, "That's from Stanley and he will be here tomorrow to help settle us in the new office. I sure hope we made the right decision Stu. With the news Miles sent me and this new opportunity, I hope we're not in over our heads."

"From what's you've said Moss, the idea of someone taking out a Catholic Cardinal at a convention is just unheard of. After that, what's next the Pope?"

While Moss and Stu, Karen had excused herself for a nap, discussed the new job, another mail came in. This one was from Miles saying the Cardinal convention was scheduled the week before and not after Christmas. Moss said, "Miles will fly in next week. He asked me to pick him up. Meanwhile he sent me a Cardinal's name that he thought was going to be the next victim. He's from Seattle and his name is Vitro Guccilio. Attached is a vita on Cardinal Guccilio."

"Apparently," as he read, "Vitro came from Poland as his last assignment. A scandal that was quickly covered up and then relocation to the USA was the result. It's been all quiet since then in his life according to the news reports." Moss kept reading and then added, "It appears this guy is in line to be the next Pope. Now I think I realize what is happening and why. If, for example, this guy was gay what negative impact would that have on the church? This could have extensive ramifications throughout the world. No wonder someone is going to the extreme of assassination."

"You know Moss it would seem that the world of today is very bizarre. I think we have out lived our usefulness. Here we have a black president that some say is Muslin and not American born; gay clergy who prey on innocent children; and an over populated prison system. I'm not religious to an extreme, but I think soon God is going to get pissed off and call a halt to this crop of humans he made. Meanwhile, I'm for letting the FBI handle this case."

"I agree Stu, but we can always help when asked. I have a nagging feeling we are not yet finished with this serial killer of clergymen Stu. It's very difficult to stop an assassination attempt if that assassin is at all talented. With the latest one being killed by a rifle leads me to believe it will be the weapon of choice for the Cardinal. I'm sure the FBI will see to it that no Cardinal is left alone at any time. That will force the killers hand to use a long distance weapon."

"Well, Moss I'll leave now and go see how my wife is doing. Meanwhile I'll do some research on Vito Guccilio and compare with Miles when he gets here.

While Stu went to see his better half, Moss decided a little walk wouldn't hurt his appetite for lunch. It was a lovely warm day. Moss noticed most of the RV owners were sitting outside under their fold out canopies enjoy the winter sunshine. After making the rounds of saying hello, Moss went back to his motor home to prepare some lunch.

****

Steve had a hard time making up his mind where to stay here in Phoenix. He needed more information from his client and then he could make decision. He checked into a flea bag hotel and set up his laptop for incoming mail. He had one message and that told him a full instructional message was to follow.

Meanwhile, Steve looked through a beat up phone book on the off chance he might find his friends name. He had no luck, but the same last name had a letter 'J' in front so he wrote down the number. Later he would use a pay phone and try his luck.

Lying down on the sway back bed, Steve had a splitting head ache. This affliction was nothing new to him. Ever since returning from abroad he experienced pounding head aches. The military doctors told him it wasn't unusual and they should go away in time. Well time has passed and if anything they were getting worse instead of better. The pain killers were not working and he really needed something stronger. Maybe he would see a doctor before getting down to business, he thought, as he drifted off to sleep.

Steve woke up an hour later with someone banging on his door. Groggily he staggered to the door and asked who was there. A deep voice of color informed him he had a phone call waiting for him. He told the voice he was coming and put on his shoes then tucked his knife in his back under his sweater. Walking down the stairs to the lobby, he wondered who would know he was here registered under an assumed name. Then he remembered before he drifted off to sleep e-mailing his client his location.

The desk man conveniently moved down the counter to give Steve some privacy on the phone. Steve identified himself and listened. After a few minutes he hung up the phone and passed the guy a fiver for the heads up on the call.

Steve decided to find something to eat and left the hotel with the black guy wondering who this guy was. It was only a fleeting thought as many strange folks came and went at the Night Shade Hotel.

He found a café not far from the hotel and sat at the counter at the end so he could view the room. The plus size waitress took his order and with a fake smile, moved on to refill the well used coffee cups in front of about ten strangers. He went over what he'd heard on the phone. He was to check into the Hyatt and choose a room where he could plainly see the Western building of the Phoenix Convention Center. The message was clear he would be a sniper again. He was to go to the bus terminal and pick up his package. Inside the package he would find all the necessary information he needed and a bundle of cash for a down payment.

****

Cardinal Guccilio sat smugly in his office in Los Angeles. After a temporary stay in Seattle he was transferred to Los Angeles to weed out accused priests of bad behavior. Specifically he was to retire some and to transfer others before he would return to Rome.

The current pope was in ill health and plans were in the making for an enclave. Political moves were all too obvious as the main candidates for pope was just three. Cardinal Guccilio was the front runner and that is why he felt confident of his position. The upcoming convention in Phoenix would, he hoped, solidify his candidacy.

If anyone was brave enough to ask the volatile question whether or not the good Cardinal Guccilio was a homosexual, would result in a shocking response. Vito Guccilio had covered his tracks well and stayed one step ahead of any accuser who maintained he was gay. However, more than a few of the younger members of the Catholic faith could attest to being compromised on more than one occasion.

The young priest, who just served him morning coffee, felt a hand brush his pants. With a baby face smile, his eyes locked onto Vito's grey eyes sending the message of acceptance.

****

Back in Phoenix Moss waited for Stanley to arrive at the new office. Moss was having second thoughts about this new adventure. As his son reminded him, 'you're not a spring chicken anymore dad.' He was parked so he could view both the office and the come and going of people shopping. It was times like this when he missed his wife the most. Her only fault was that she was too quiet and he wanted her to talk more. Quite the contrary to most married men whose wives never stop talking. To Moss there was big difference between talking and listening to gossip. His wife was not a gossip type person. However, if the cat could talk, he might burn some ears. He wondered how the fur ball was adapting to his new life.

Moss saw a car pull in to the front of the brick office building and Stanley stepped out waving at Moss. With him was a female and extremely tall for a woman. Moss was wearing tan Dockers and a sports coat to match. He hopped he was properly dressed for this position. Stanley, he saw was dressed much the same as he was. After an introduction and hand shakes around they entered the building.

Moss followed the new secretary Lee Post into the elevator taking them to the second floor. What a waste, Moss thought. We should just walk and then he could catch a nice view of Ms. Post's long legs. What Moss did catch was a nice scent from her as they quietly rode the silent elevator up.

Stanley had the keys to a double door office. He gave them both a tour of the large office and showed Moss where one of two offices, he could choose, was. Moss had told him Stu would be a little late as he was renting a car and waiting for it to be delivered. Stanley said, "The Company will lease two cars Moss for you and Stu. That's part of the job description I failed to mention. In addition you have full medical and, God forbid, death benefits."

"I think we will do just fine," Moss said. God what a stupid thing to say he thought.

"Ms Post has a file folder for each of you with a standard contract. If you have any question let me know. Other than that, the office furniture should arrive any time now. Phones and other connections are for this late afternoon. By tomorrow we should be set and ready to go. Also, Moss, there is a file for a missing person I'd like you to look over for your first case. I'm not pushing you to rush, rush, but as you know, the sooner the better."

"Thanks Stanley, I'm not one to sit around doodling on paper. I prefer busy as to chair warming waiting for someone to call."

"Our problem Moss is that we have too much business to handle. We hate to be selective, but the time factor demands we be particular which case we accept."

They were still standing talking when the furniture men arrived. Moss was impressed that in an hour two offices, a conference table and chairs and the secretaries furniture was in place. On there heals came the computers and by dark the telephones were ready to go.

Stu had arrived and the three of them sat in the conference room getting acquainted. It appeared to Moss that Stu and Stanley liked each other. Ms. Post seemed to take charge of where things should go and that was fine by Moss.

After all was said and done, they went out to dinner. Moss was hoping Ms. Post would loosen up a little as when she did smile, which was infrequent, her face lit up, but when shy and reserved, and she looked a typical old maid. Moss guessed her at around fifty. Apparently, according to Stanley, she had come highly recommended from another investigative agency that was looking for a younger more appealing receptionist. Moss thought, there loss our gain.

Stanley said, "While we wait for our dinners, let me tell you a little about this first case you'll be looking into. It's fairly high profile, but while we sit her in public, I'll not mention any names. The person missing is a run away spoiled brat. She was last seen or heard from a week ago. A girlfriend owned up that she had spent the night with her, but since then, she seems to have disappeared. The parents are quite upset because she is only thirteen and they are afraid of predators. The downside is you two have no experience here in Phoenix and don't know the wrong side of the tracks from the other."

"What do the local police have to say about this case," asked Stu.

"The police claim they are doing everything they can and have pulled in the local suspects to no avail. The bad news is this is the fourth girl of that age bracket to go missing from fairly prominent families. No ransom demands, no nothing to go on."

"Any young bodies discovered lately to assist any clues to the disappearance of these girls," asked Moss.

"No nothing and when we step into this case, I'm afraid stepping on toes is going to happen. You both know if some private detectives came snooping around your turf, you would be not happy. I talked to the Captain and he said to beware of detective named Chuck Tompson. He told me Tompson was a fine detective, but was very territorial."

"Well, I like the area and we are here to stay," said Stu. Moss nodded his agreement as the salads arrived.

Stanley spent the night and met all three new employees at the office promptly at nine am. If the truth be known, both Moss and Stu had coffee in Stu's motor a couple hours ago. Ms. Post had been pacing her apartment floor since seven am. She didn't want to appear too eager, but eight am was a better start time for her.

As it was, Ms. Post was the first to arrive and had the foresight to bring some coffee and paper cups for the first go around. Later she would slip out to the dollar store and buy some real plastic cups.

Meanwhile, Stanley gathered all around the conference table and passed out credit cards to all three. In addition he gave Ms. Post two thousand in cash for expenses. After they got going it was prudent of all three to fill out an expense report. That billing would go directly to the case they were currently working on. Stanley made sure they all understood that no double billing would be acceptable. Everything above board rang like music to Moss's ears.

Stanley said, "Well, any questions," as he looked around the table. "If not then I'll be on my way. Oh, one more thing. We're going to have a Christmas party here in Phoenix for all to meet the other parts of our company."

Moss and Stu spent the rest of the morning reading old newspaper accounts of missing kids and with the help of Ms. Post's friend at the police department, files were obtained and favors were owed. At noon the three of them decided on pizza for lunch.

Sitting around the conference table the three newbies discussed the missing girls. It was mutually agreed that most likely a serial killer was preying on homeless teenage girls. That would probably mean the guy was young, well groomed and drove a nice car; a SUV was mentioned. What it came down to was a lot of shoe leather would be needed and many questions asked of a social class that really hated cops.

Amazing to Moss and Stu, Lee Post was an excellent detective in her own right. She finally admitted she was formally a detective from Canada. Moss waited for more to come, but she left it at that. Now his curiosity was up as well as a stirring in the lower region where all had been quiet since the wife had passed on.

Moss said he would take the first shift on the streets. He was armed with pictures of all four girls and a few hundred dollars if given the right lead. Stu stayed with the computers doing a ten state search of same MO. Ms. Post set up her filing system as Moss drove off to the west side; the seedier part of town.

For the most part Moss saw only Mexicans or Latinos as he cruised the area noted for high crime and drugs. Moss felt handicapped by the language barrier. He really needed a partner who spoke the lingo. He pulled into a strip mall that had more closed stores than open ones. He looked at his watch and it was almost eleven am. Sure it was close to Christmas, but he was not sure if the students were on vacation or not. He watched people of various ages either walking around or sitting on the curb. Moss could tell the drug dealers from the others as they stared at the white man looking them over.

Moss decided to take a risk and wade right into the middle of them. It was time to make or break it. Money talks and bull shits walks in all walks of life.

He drove up and parked one row back from the front of a discount store. The crowd of kids stood or sat silently staring at him as he walked up try to determine who was the leader? Moss had on a sports coat and he took it off to show he was unarmed and not the police. A taller than usual Latino stood up and stuck out his chest to show Moss that he was the one to handle any and all conversation about to transpire.

Moss said, "I'm not the police, but a private investigator looking for some missing kids. I'm hoping you can help me. There's some coin in it if you can provide me with some good information." He let that hang in the air for a while and then the leader said:

"We know nothing about any missing kid's man." Milo felt lucky as he understood what the guy had said to him.

"Look at these picture and see if anything jogs your memory," he said while pulling out of his jacket pocket some pictures of the four missing girls. Now Moss was no neophyte and he watched the others closely as they crowded around to see the pictures. He noticed one boy around fourteen open his eyes for just a fraction of a second. Moss looked around and most just shrugged their shoulders with looks of indifference. His eyes came back to the young man and Moss saw him use his eyes to note a fast food restaurant on the corner. Moss thanked the leader and gave him a Ben Franklin for his time.

Moss drove around the drive through and the young man jumped into his Rover with his head down. The kid said, "Just be cool man and order a few tacos and turn right on the main street"

Moss did as he was told and then after turning to the right, he asked, "Where to now young man?"

"When you come to a flashing yellow light, turn left. After that, find a place to park. From there we will take a walk in a park nearby."

"Well, my new found friend, do you have a name or want to remain mysterious to a stranger?"

"My nickname is Taco. I'm famous for eating ten tacos in one minute." Milo parked the rover next to a couple of derelict wrecks that the city had failed to pick up.

Moss said, "Is my Rover safe here Taco?"

"Yeah, and do you see that dude over there sitting under the lamppost. He's my best friend and he will keep an eye on your ride." Taco jumped out and took a taco to his friend. After that he came and nodded for Moss to follow him. In no time at all they were away from the street and Taco motioned for Moss to sit down on the dry grass. Moss waited while he wolfed down the remaining three tacos and gave off a loud belch after drinking down half a large coke.

Taco said, "I remember two of those girls, but that was some time back. At the time I wondered if they were crazy as they were in a hood where they should never have been. The strange part was a shinny Black SUV pulled up and both girls go in it and the guy drove off."

"Did you notice any thing special or different about the car?"

"Yes, it had blue lights along the bottom of the side panels. I can tell you this, no one but a white man would drive that around here."

"Any chance on the plate number?"

"No number but a personalized plate with the crazy name Zorro on it."

Moss dug out another one hundred dollar bill and handed it to Taco. Then he said, "Taco, if this information pans out, I'd like to make you a proposition. No one needs to know and we can use disposable cells if you so choose. Me and my partner are from back east and have just started working this area for a private firm. As long as you feed us quality information we will pay you with hard green cash.

"Right on dude. If you need me, hang out at the taco restaurant and someone will let me know you are looking for me. Now I'll snoop around and see what I can find out about these other two."

The next thing Moss knew Taco was gone like he'd never been there. The only thing left was the empty bag of tacos and the memory of a shinny black SUV with blue lights and a personalized plate with Zorro on it.

He begin to chuckle and then broke down into a knee slapping fit of laughter.

Back at the office Moss was almost afraid to speak of the tale of Taco and Zorro. Then he decided to wing it and shared it first with Stu and then with Lee Post. No one laughed and Ms. Post hurried to her computer for a make on the license plate.

Meanwhile Stu filled Moss in on any same MO in nearby states and found nothing. Stu quizzed Moss about the Latino experience and then told him why frankly speaking he couldn't work with them in the orange groves. It wasn't that they were obnoxious or bad folks, it was just that their English was so poor it drove Stu crazy trying to figure out what the hell they were talking about.

Ms. Post came back with a smug grin on her face and said, "That SUV was registered to a William Blake who reported it stolen. It's my guess now that a chop shop made short work of that blue lighted Zorro." All three of them had a chuckle and then got back to business.

Stu took the stolen vehicles and Moss sat thinking about Taco. Taco had played it close to the chest making sure no one saw him as he crouched down on the passenger side of the Rover. At least his information had been fairly accurate. What scared Moss was the possibility that the missing girls wound up as part of a square block of metal. God what a horrible thought. Moss shook his head and walked into the sterile small bathroom and washed his face.

Moss went to Stu's office and told him what he thought was going on and Stu nodded his agreement. Stu said, "This could get really ugly Moss. Let's expect the worst and hope for the best. Meanwhile our hope lies on a record taco eater whose nickname is Taco. Hey, at least we have something to go on. Knowing you Moss you'll be back buying a half dozen more tacos tomorrow." And he was right on the button.

With a pocket full of money, Moss at around eleven thirty went through the drive around. By the time he'd ordered and picked up a sack full of vile smelling tacos, a small kid, no more than ten years old popped up just under the pick up food window and said, "Go to the park."

He handed the kid a ten dollar bill and drove off. The day was clear and warm. No coat was necessary. Moss sat down at the same place as the day before and waited for Taco to show up.

Silently with stealth Taco sat down next to Moss. Then as Moss recovered another Latino sat down on the other side of him. He didn't panic and just looked at both of them. A smile broke out on Taco's face and he said, while digging out the tacos, "This is my big brother Lanky. We both thought you were not bad for a white man and Lanky wants to talk to you."

Moss turned to Lanky and he said, "You are in very dangerous territory. These guys you are looking for play rough. So far they don't know about you. Also the police are looking the other way while their palms are greased. Not all police, but a few of them. I don't know what they are paying you senor, but it isn't enough."

Moss nodded and then he said, "Lanky, I appreciate the advice and I want to thank you for speaking up. However, dirty cops and killers of teenage girls make me sick. Even if I don't survive, if I can stop them from killing, I'll do it. I could care less about stolen vehicles, but murder is not acceptable. Can you give me any leads that will propel me to my demise?"

Taco handed his brother the sack and said, "If you are going to stir up the bucket of shit, then we'll do what we can. When these bastards first started they took some of our Latinos to play with. We let them know that was not a good thing to do. They switched to white girls. This is a syndicate that has its roots down in ole Mex. This gang of thieves stretches from LA to Florida."

Lanky spoke again and said, "The guy you're looking for his nick name is Humpty Dumpty. He's the one that likes little girls."

Moss dug in his pocket and gave two hundred to each of them. Then he asked one more question, "Where can I find this Humpty Dumpty guy?"

"Where ever there are railroad cars he's not far away," Lanky said. But one thing you should know is that it's near Christmas and they usually close up shop and go back home. You'd best wait until after the first of the year before the set up shop for the new year."

Well, so much for that, Moss thought. After lunch he was to meet Miles at the Hyatt. Meanwhile, he thought he might just pass through the railroad area and see what was happening.

Chapter VII

Miles felt like a kid again. Here he was flying down to Arizona to record the events that might make history. It was seldom, if ever, a red capped cardinal was assassinated. It would be nice if the serial killer was stopped, but in a perverted sort of way, Miles kind of hoped the got his deserved sentence. It wasn't that he was sanctioning murder, but how else would you stop a high raking religious leader from preying on the young and unsuspecting. Miles felt Moss would have an idea and he relished the reunion even though it was only a short while since they had last seen each other.

While Miles was flying down, Moss and his two office companions were having lunch in the conference room Ms. Post was quite accommodating and appeared to want to make the partnership a success. Stu gave a report on stolen cars and Moss raised an eyebrow as to the number of high value vehicles that been stolen. Stu said, "I'd guess that all or just the parts of stolen cars either go to LA or down to Mexico. I've discovered a small rail road services the west and east coast from Cadiz, California. It seems simple enough. First you take what you want, box it up and put it in a container. What I don't know is how the system works. I've mostly worked homicide in my career and never got involved with stolen cars."

"Yes, this is a new ball game for me too Stu," said Moss. However, bad guys are bad guys and usually they make a mistake and if Phoenix has dirty cops, they will go down as well. Now, we must shift gears as Miles is flying in this afternoon and if I'm not mistaken, he'll have some juicy information for us."

Moss was sitting in the hotels comfortable chairs waiting for Miles to check in. He was relaxed and feeling good. The one thing nice about Moss and his countenance, he was fairly inconspicuous. Most cops loved the roll so they stood out, but not Moss. He looked like a typical tourist sitting waiting for his wife or a friend.

Moss was watching the door when a young man walked in carrying his golf clubs and one bag. It wasn't that he looked so out of place, but few people who stayed in a hotel like this carried their own bags. Moss saw a mass of blonde hair and when the guy approached the desk, he set the golf bag down and looked around the area as if to check it out for hostiles, not friends. His eyes locked onto Moss and for a brief moment, Moss thought he recognized the guy. He turned back to the desk and withdrew a wad of cash to pay the room. Nothing wrong with using cash, but few people carried around a lot of cash nowadays. Credit cards worked best and safer too.

Moss was still trying to place the guy when Miles came in with a flourish. Moss got up and went to greet his old friend; completely forgetting the guy with the golf clubs.

Steve Langley wondered who the grey haired old man was that caught his eye. For the life of him he couldn't place him. Moss was right with Miles as he checked in. he asked the desk clerk of the name of the guy who just checked in with the golf bag. Moss lied and told him he thought he was a professional golfer. The desk clerk said, "His name is Steffen Lewis and will be staying with us for a week or more."

"May I trouble you for his room number?" Now the desk clerk was smelling something not quite right when Miles jumped in saying:

"We both think we know the guy and would like to send or take him a bottle of champagne. We think he is a member of our country club and here are a few bucks to get the ball rolling. We didn't mean to appear curious." Miles very cleverly slipped two one hundred dollar bill to the desk clerk who gave him his room card.

Moving to the coffee shop, Miles didn't say anything because he knew Moss was deep in thought. At his own time, Moss would fill him in. Meanwhile, Miles was getting his ducks lined up for presentation to Moss. They found a table tucked in the back as requested by Miles. After ordering coffee and pie, Miles opened his brief case to show and tell Moss what he had since discovered.

A half hour later Moss was convinced Miles was on top of it. Vito Guccilio, the cardinal from LA was on the list to be assassinated. The evidence from a cover up in first Poland and then while visiting an African nation, a stir was raised, but then the journalist disappeared. Poland was a dead end and not surprising the event was swept under the rug. Moss said, "When do the red cap folks check in and what's their schedule for however long they are staying here."

"Their scheduled for four days and three nights beginning the sixteenth. All of them want to be back home by Christmas time. I don't know the daily schedule of events, but that shouldn't be hard to obtain after they arrive. By the way have you heard from the FBI Tim guy?"

"No, not for awhile, but I expect him at anytime now. I think we caught him with his pants down with the discovery of a plot here in Phoenix to take out a cardinal." Moss was still having a nagging feeling about the guy with the golf bag when in walked the same guy only this time without the golf bag. He stopped and looked around, as if to see if expecting to see a friend, then spun on his heels and left. Moss thought that rather strange as the blonde guy had saw Moss looking at him. He was a cool customer trying to make Moss think he was looking for someone, when in fact he knew who Moss was. But how does he know who I am.

Could it be this easy. Does this guy recognize me from back home. Maybe I saw him on a wanted poster somewhere. What we need now is a picture of him and his prints, Moss thought. Miles thought Moss had lost it for awhile until he asked, "Moss, what is going on here?"

"Well, that guy with the golf clubs walks in the coffee shop, sees me, then turns on his heels and takes off. I know I've seen his face somewhere and now I'm sure he knows me, but from where is the question."

"Let me do some digging here. By dinner time I'll have fleshed this guy out. I love it Moss when you have that nagging feeling about a person. This could be the break we've been looking for. A set of fingerprints would be nice. I'll slip a few bucks to the room keeper to have a glass set aside for me. Hopefully, by tomorrow we can have an ID on this guy."

"Sounds good to me. We don't have a lot to go on and we need a complete list of tenants whose view is looking at the Western Convention Building. I think it's plain enough that to assassinate the cardinal it will come from this hotel. How he would escape is a good question," Moss said.

Moss looked up and saw Special Agent Tim Solder scanning the room. He spotted Moss and with a slight nod, acknowledged his presence and walked over. Moss shook his hand and introduced Miles. Tim wasn't real happy to meet with a journalist but after he found out that Miles was a good source of information, warmed to the relationship. Especially when he found out that connection to the Cardinal Guccilio came from Miles and his staff.

Moss said, "I saw a guy here that I recognize but can't place him. He knows me and has seen me twice now. He checked in while I was waiting for Miles. Strangely enough he was carrying his own golf clubs. The last time I saw him was just a few minutes ago before you came in. He walked in, saw me, turned and left the way he came. There's something suspicious about the guy and sooner rather later I will place him."

"To bring you up to date. The hit in North Carolina was a clean get away. We have agents pouring over videos from the airports and the other means of travel. Our best guess is he took Amtrak as it provides the best method of not being seen. One can board and hide away for a long time then slip out almost unseen. If the hit man is here in Phoenix then we'll examine closely the video from Maricopa. What we would like Moss, if you would come to our office and view the video to see if the man you saw here fits the man from Amtrak."

"Sure. Glad to help. Let's go if you're ready Tim. Miles let's meet up for dinner."

"Dinner at seven pm sound good to me Moss. Would you care to join us Agent Tim?" asked Miles.

"If I can make it I will, but as you know, our lives are not our own when you work for the government."

Moss thought of the word 'functional' would fit the FBI office in Phoenix. It really lacked any warmth or friendliness from the moment you walked through the door. Polite frisking and through a metal detector made one feel like you had your picture on the post office wall, looking grim as hell.

Blindly Moss followed Agent Tim to a room where a staff of agents was viewing a video. Introduction of Moss by Agent Tim was greeted by a nod of welcome. Tim said, "Let's run the video from when the Amtrak train arrives at Maricopa until it leaves again. Moss sat at the head of the table as the video or mediocre quality began. The train seemed long to Moss and then it occurred to him the last time he saw a similar train was in Oklahoma sitting at a crossing rather lost looking for Stanley.

Then it hit him. He remembered seeing a blonde haired guy looking out the window with a stare fixed on Moss. That was indeed the same person who walked into the hotel and checked in just ahead of Miles. Now having established that fact, Moss concentrated on seeing if the new suspect departed the train in Maricopa. Was this the break they needed? Moss by now was up on the edge of the chair staring hard at the video.

Then he saw him striding with purpose to the station. He carried a large duffel bag and that was all. Moss said to Agent Tim, "That's him Tim. The guy with a large duffel bag." Moss had never viewed such activity as with that statement he just made. In seconds the picture was frozen, blown up and in no time was computer enhanced to reveal a very clear and distinct likeness of the man.

Moss felt very old at that moment as the hub of activity went by him like a sports car with its top down. Even if he put the Rover to the test, it would be lost in the vacuum left by the newer model. Moss stood up and Tim gave him the high sign to follow him. After a long walk and up a special elevator, Tim knocked on an unmarked door. A deep throated "enter" was heard and Tim slowly opened the door to a very spacious, but functional office. From behind the desk stood the Regional Director of the FBI. At least that is what Moss remembered Agent Tim telling him the mans title was. John Atwater was a pleasant looking man either just knocking on the door of fifty or shortly would be starting on the down hill side of that magic number.

Moss shook his warm hand and they moved to a round table that would comfortable seat six. After taking their seats, a young man arrived with a pot of coffee and three mugs. John Atwater said, "Moss, I've waited a long time to meet you. I really doubt if you know it, but you are well respected in law enforcement circles. I know your former captain very well and he will miss you. I was eves dropping on your viewing the video and want to thank you for helping us. I think now it's just a matter of time before we put this guy behind bars, but, Moss, like you we feel some bigger fish are pulling the strings here."

Moss waited for more to come but apparently that was all he was going to say for the moment. Moss thought it safe enough to thank him for his kind words. After doing that Moss added, "Yes, my partner Stu Williams was the first one to speculate that a force of power was behind the assassinations. The sad part is if we take out their hit man, they will just replace him with an unknown again."

"We've thought of that Moss. However, we can't let this guy take out a Catholic Cardinal, but what we can do is prevent it and hope for the best. Now if you've any ideas, now is the time to throw them on the table."

Moss liked this guy. It was nice to work with someone intelligent, but not overbearing think everyone should notice his high position. Moss said, "If this is our man, then we could sweep him up, grill him, and see what mistakes the money behind the assassinations came from. He's had to have conversation with them and other methods of contact. With the resources of the FBI once this guy spills his guts; all avenues of leads could be pursued."

John Atwater smiled at Moss knowing what was said and what meaning it really meant. The day of eliciting information by gentle persuasion was over. After 9/11, down came all barriers of finding out what was what. Information was needed and that information had to be reliable. Government and the people demanded it. A location outside the States, like Guantanamo Bay, Cuba was perfect for a not so quiet interrogation.

John Atwater said, "Agent Tim, why don't you pick up the suspect and let's see what he has to say. Also, I'm curious as to know what's inside his golf bag besides golf clubs"

John stood up signaling that the meeting was over. He shook Moss's hand and with a warm smile wished him well in his new position as a private investigator. He said, "Your welcome to call us Moss and if we can help, we would be happy to assist you."

The irony was that the suspect Steve Langley had disappeared golf bag and all. The FBI did find his finger prints and now the manhunt was on. By evening the news had his picture flashed cross the TV screens and evening papers sported his picture.

Steve had already landed at LAX by the time the FBI boys had discovered him gone. A search discovered the golf clubs in a dumpster. He'd went shopping and got a hair cut along with a dapper looking hat. He looked the part of a business man. The FBI spent hours looking at videos of the airport and he'd slipped them once again.

*~~~*

Cardinal Vitro Guccilio was packing his bags for the trip to Arizona. He wasn't due to leave until tomorrow evening, but he wanted to make sure he never forgot anything. The night was drawing to a close and Vitro had special plans for the evening with his new friend Mark. Mark would drive him to the airport the next day and wait patiently for him to return to LA.

Steve checked into a middle of the road hotel. Apparently his employer had the foresight to resort to plan B if Phoenix got too hot. Another package waited for him at the bus terminal. By nine that night Steve had the address and was sitting outside the Cardinals temporary residence.

Steve thought the large house in an upscale neighbor hood a little ostentatious for a clergy man but it was none of his business. What he needed now as a plan and then go into hiding for a spell. His instruction included the cardinals' time schedule of leaving LA for Arizona. The more Steve thought about it the better he liked the idea of a hit at the airport while the cardinal unloaded his baggage. However, that would limit his exit strategy; unless he was to take a flight somewhere as a passenger?

What he really needed was a good disguise. With that settled, he drove back to his hotel in his rental car and had a good night sleep.

Moss was sleeping heavily when his cell went off. His head cleared quickly when Stanley said who was calling. He apologized for the late call, but Moss was needed in LA first thing in the morning. Stanley would pick him up at the airport in a barrowed corporate jet.

On the way to LA Stanley explained the situation. He told Moss that Ivy Consulting and Security had been hired to protect the good cardinal Vito Guccilio. Apparently the church had thought Vito Guccilio was in imminent danger. Ivy had their people on the case, but Moss with his vast experience would be better at observation.

Moss said, "Stanley, we need to find a double for the cardinal and make sure the stand in is Kevlar to the maximum. Now we are assuming that the attempt will come from a snipers rifle and or a personal attack. We need to broaden our thinking about other ways to eliminate other than the before mentioned."

"I'm not sure I follow you Moss," said Stanley. What other methods are there besides poison, fire and other usual things that can happen."

"I'm not sure Stanley, but we try and think how it might be accomplished other than by the usual methods. A car wreck maybe."

"Well, we may thwart this attempt, but we can't guard the cardinal 24/7 the rest of his life. What we need to do is to catch this guy, find out who hired him and cut off the money flow."

Landing at LAX at nine am, Moss and Stanley were met by a person from their office. Max Lemon started talking almost from the time they entered the car until an hour later when they pulled into a residential driveway. At the end of the drive, Moss couldn't remember what the guy told them. What he did hear was the cardinal was whisked away under cover of darkness. His double was undergoing make up and being dressed for the trip to the airport and on to Phoenix.

Apparently the show was to demonstrate that the real cardinal was being driven to the airport by heavy security. Moss realized that the assassin would come no where near this place and it would be at the airport if something were to happen.

Standing in the driveway, Moss looked at the neighbor hood viewing an upscale residential neighborhood that showed no activity other than at the cardinal's residence. Moss said, "What do you think we should do Stanley?"

Stanley, a few inches taller than Moss clearly had scanned the area with a critical eye said, "No way would he try a hit here Moss. The airport or nothing is my thoughts. However, with around five million passengers a day travel through LAX finding one man would be next to impossible."

Steve had cruised by the cardinal's residence twice. What he saw he didn't like. The place was crawling with security and no doubt the word had gotten out that his life was in danger. Steve drove to a fast food location, found a wifi spot, and sent off an e-mail telling his employer that the hit was off.

After having a tasteless burger a new message came in. Steve read it eagerly. All it said was to wait and new instructions would be forthcoming. He thought he might just take a hike and leave this assassin business for another day. He'd take the rest of the day to hang around the airport waiting for a new mail to come in. He would wear his new disguise and people watch. Just out of curiosity he would hang around the check in counter that catered to the Phoenix flight at four pm.

After checking his rental car in Steve went to a newsstand for some reading material. Sitting in a position to observe the passengers, Steve watched to see if the cardinal arrived early or just when the boarding call came. If nothing else he would get a clear look at the cardinal for the future if it was needed.

About an hour before boarding call, Steve noticed two men walking to the boarding area looking around rather furtively. One was old and the other middle aged. Behind them walked two black suits that were obviously government men. It soon became clear that a switch had taken place and Steve smiled having discovered the ploy. It was then he wished he had a weapon and would take all four of them out.

Steve went back to his magazine reading when he felt something poke the back of his neck. He started to raise his hand when he heard a soft voice with authority say, "Don't move. The barrel of a 38 is pointed at your neck. After what you have done, I'd like an excuse to pull the trigger. Now slowly, very slowly move your right arm and hand to the right and rest it on the back of the bench next to you. After that move your left arm and hand to the left as you did the right one."

Steve did as instructed and soon he was handcuffed with his arms behind him. In no time he had leg shackles on and a hood over his head. A wheel chair was provided and he was off to interrogation. Moss breathed a sigh of relief and said to Stanley, "Thanks for the loan of the gun. It makes me feel good to know we caught and cuffed the bad guy. What I'm scared of is this revengeful killing will continue until the church decides to do something different."

"I agree with you Moss. But we have our challenges ahead of us and what you're working on is more important in my book of life."

Chapter VIII

The day after Christmas Moss decided that living in a motor home was for the birds. He missed his little house and decided to rent an apartment for over fifty-five people. He found a storage rental place to park the motor home and moved into a two bedroom apartment not so far from his office.

By the first of January he was good to go with all things necessary for his creature comforts. But now it was time to get back to work. The day after the New Year, Moss decided it was time for another round of tacos.

Earlier that morning he sat in his office listening to Agent Tim tell him about the people who had hired Steve Langley to assassinate the pedophiles. If Moss understood him correctly a group of very senior powerful businessmen in Boston had decided to take the law into their own hands.

Unfortunately, there was nothing they could charge the old timers with. All they did was smile and say talk to my lawyer.

****

Moss ordered a dozen tacos and a few giant cokes to wash it down with. He drove to the park and waited for someone to show up. Moss smiled when he made sure the sack was open and the windows were down to let the taco smell drift through the park area.

Sure enough, here came Taco rubber necking around to make sure no one saw him with a white man. Taco dug in like there was no tomorrow and soon brother Lanky arrived to enjoy the spoils of Taco Bell. Moss waited patiently and then Lanky said, "I hear Humpty is back in town meaner than ever. They said he had a bad holiday as someone wacked his mother. Mr. Moss, I hope you can put this guy down. He's making a really bad name for us Latinos. If you will pick me up at midnight tonight I'll show you where he hangs out. However, you must drive something besides this English Rover as it's too obvious.'

"I'll meet you at the Taco Bell at midnight in a non-descript car. I'll be parked in the parking area with my parking lights on."

Back in the office Moss told Stu and Ms. Post the plan for the night. Stu said, "Let's play this smart and I'll back you up a few blocks away. We'll stay in contact by cell phone."

"Good idea and we'll need to rent a couple cars for a while. We don't want them traceable. Lee could you handle that end of things?"

"Indeed I can. I have some old driver's licenses I can use. I never throw anything away. You never know when you might need it. If my husband were still alive he'd roll his eyes at the spare bedroom and garage." Moss grinned and Lee caught his nice smile.

Stanley called for an update and Moss filled him in on tonight's plan. He told them to be careful and be safe.

Moss, Taco and Lanky met at midnight. Moss was directed to South Phoenix near Broadway not far from Interstate 10. Surprising there was more activity than Moss thought as they cruised the area. It seemed like Lanky knew his way around here very well. They found a nice spot to park hidden from most every direction. Stu drove by and then found a place about six blocks away that was consisted of a gas station minimart.

After parking Moss waited for Lanky to give the instructions. Lanky told them to wait a few minutes and he would go look around and be back. Taco took the opportunity to talk to Moss he said, "You know Mr. Moss, Humpty took our sister and killed her. That's why we are helping you take this guy out. Even the guys that work for him hate his guts. We're hoping that you will not capture him alive. If you capture him we would like to dispose of his body. We have something special planned for him."

"Well, my little Taco friend, we have to catch him first. When he kidnaps the girls, where does he keep them?"

"Upstairs in his warehouse behind his office, from what we know about it."

About then Lanky returned and told Moss to follow him quietly. Moss had dressed for the occasion in dark clothes. He followed Lanky for what seemed a long ways and then hugging the side of warehouse, Lanky pointed at a steel warehouse with the doors slightly open.

Moss realized how out of shape he really was. Lanky was not even breathing hard and he was panting like a dog. Moss dug out his binocs and gazed at the warehouse. He could see sparks flying from a cutting torch and the occasional bang, bang of a large hammer upon metal. Moss wanted a closer look at the inside, but Lanky shook his head and whispered wait a minute.

It wasn't but a few seconds when a guard walked around to the front of the warehouse and then slowly continued his rounds. Moss was very happy he'd brought Lanky along. Lanky whispered that they had about five or six minutes until the guard returned. Moss timed it and sure enough here came the guard again. As soon as he disappeared around the side, Moss and Lanky hurried over to the open door and gazed in.

Moss was happy the night was dark without a moon. He took a quick look and paid more attention to the office upstairs where lights were blazing and he could see people moving around. Downstairs it appeared about five or six guys were working on some cars. Lanky jerked his arm and they left just in time. Moss caught his breath and then they went back to the car.

He called Stu and told him to go home and he would fill him in tomorrow. Moss then found a 24 hour restaurant and all three had something to eat. Moss asked, "Is it possible to know when he has a captive at the warehouse?"

Lanky was wolfing down some onion rings and with a mouthful said, "Yes, when the office lights are out he is in the back with his new toy." Moss gave that some thought. His first reaction was a search warrant, but then he remembered he wasn't a cop any more. He needed to think outside the law that he once so revered in. If indeed some cops here were dirty, then it stood to reason he would have a hard time enlisting their help.

*~~~~*

Moss made arrangements for a stake out each night at the warehouse. Nothing of any interest happened for a few days and then Moss got word that a pair of identical boy twins was abducted after school. The parents were of a high social class and very wealthy. A huge reward was offered and Moss was put on alert.

He and Lanky stood around a corner of a warehouse building that provided a fair watch on the chop shop. It was common that around one am the shop would turn out the lights and the workers would go home.

However, the day after the kidnapping, Moss and Lanky were on the job at one am when a stretch limo pulled up outside the doors. Moss raised the night vision binocs and sucked in a gasp of air when he recognized the person getting out of the back door was Cardinal Vito Guccilio!

Chapter IX

Moss thought the worse case that Vito was here for the two boys missing since yesterday after their school let out. There was no way he could rush in a save them. Hell, he didn't even know if they were even here. Lanky had told him if the lights go out in the office, then bad things are going on in the back room. As it stood now he could only wait until after the Cardinal left and then see what happened.

Moss blew a sigh of relief when not ten minutes went by when Vito came out, got in his limo and drove off. That meant two things. That he saw what he came to see and or he didn't see what he came for. Either way it looked to Moss that he would be back soon.

Regardless, he needed to discuss this situation with everyone including Stanley. The topic would be murder and that didn't sit well with Moss.

The following morning around ten am, Moss, Stu and Lee sat around a conference table drinking good coffee. Moss had just finished telling about last night's adventure with Vito arriving on the scene.

"What this boils down to Stu and Lee, is murder in the first degree. I see no options here. Stu, what do you think?"

"I think we are in deep shit here Moss. However, I can justify it if you can. Lee what do you think?"

"I want in on it. Three of us take those bastards on. Our court system sucks and it's time we played a bigger role in doling out justice. I can't imagine what they are planning for those two twins as playmates. I shudder thinking about it. We have the means, opportunity and the skill to pull this off. But, we do need to inform Stanley."

Moss listened with keen interest and replied. "How about this for a plan. Stu you take on Humpty Dumpty and Lee will back you up. I'll go to the backroom and deal with Vito. I don't think we will have any problems handling the job, but afterwards the kids will need medical attention and the cops will be swarming around the place. We need silencers and quickly in and quickly out with leaving no trace of us. Lanky said his gang would take care of the bodies. We can only hope the kids are blindfolded so they can't identify us or anyone else for that matter."

"Then you are saying Moss we take the kids with us," asked Stu.

"Yes, and the only voice they will hear is Lee's female voice."

Stu said, "Okay I in and let's make a plan beginning with the chauffer."

Lee said, "I'll get the hardware and silencers."

*~~~~*

On a secure line, Moss told Stanley the plan. Stanley, surprisingly, was not shocked and whole heartedly endorsed the plan. He asked Moss if he needed back up and that he would fly out if necessary. Moss told him he didn't need any help and said thanks for the offer.

They discussed the plan until lunch time. Then Moss said he would see Lanky and Taco and tell them what was going to take place. He loaded up on two bags of Tacos and Cokes drove to the park and waited as usual. Thirty minutes later Taco showed up followed by Lanky.

Lanky listened and so did Taco. When Moss finished, Lanky said, "If you take out the bad guys we will clean up the mess. We'll even take care of the limo and the driver. The driver will be brainwashed and will never reveal what took place. Now, what time should we meet up?"

"We should be in place at twelve thirty I think. They shut down at one am and that's when the limo arrived last night. Have you enough people to take care of the shop guys?"

Lanky smiled and said, "No doubt we do. Those guys are just workers and no problem. We'll take care of them."

"Okay, then I'll say bye for now and see you tonight."

*~~~~*

Back at the office Lee was still not back. Moss found Stu in his office on the computer. Moss sat down and said, "The Latinos will meet us at midnight thirty. They'll take care of the shop crew. How to feel about this operation Stu?"

Stu sat back and put his hands interlocking behind his head and looked at his long time partner. "You know Moss thirty years ago we would never do this shit. But times have changed and we must change with it or perish. I can't retire and do nothing. So, we either change with the times or fade away into dust. We could, on the other hand, call in the FBI. But that would only delay the inevitable. Next thing you know those Latinos would be departed and more people would die down there rather than here. No, I've no problem wasting the bad guys. How about you old friend?"

"The cat was the last member of my family to move on. My son is doing fine. My life is mostly over as I move on a downward plane to the final resting place. I like the idea of removing bad guys and saving the good guys. Especially kids. I get real hot under the collar thinking what a grown up might do to an innocent child. I think tonight is pay back time Stu."

Lee walked in carrying a taped up box. She sat it down on Stu's desk. She borrowed his letter opener and slit the tape. Inside were three pistols and silencers. A box of ammunition for each pistol was also inside the box. Neither Moss nor Stu asked her where she got the firepower, but was pleased to see the items for the nights work.

Lee sat down and blew out a lung full of air. Then she said, "It's going to be a long night guys. I suggest we all go home and take a rest. I know a nice deli that has a great salad bar. Let's meet here at the office at eight pm and go have a light dinner."

All agreed and out the door they went. On the way to his new apartment, Moss thought about the two twins who by now must be scared to death. Not only that, but probably hungry and cold. Moss pulled into his underground parking and rode the elevator to his apartment. This new place didn't feel like home to him. Suddenly he felt rather lonely and went to lie down on his bed. He smiled when he thought that he even missed the damn cat.

He just started to doze off when his door bell rang. Moss wondered who would be ringing his bell and when he peered through the hole he saw Lee Post starring back at him. He quickly opened the door and she walked in. Moss stood there with the door still open and then she said, "Moss, close the door. I'm staying for awhile."

He did as he was instructed and closed and twisted the deadbolt. Lee said, "I could use a glass of wine if you have it Moss."

"Well, this is your lucky day Lee. Along with the milk I bought I scored a jug of white Chardonnay. I was feeling a little down and now you have stopped by, well, I feel much better." Moss fetched the wine and puller. He looked for wine glasses, but damn, he couldn't find any. He grabbed two water glasses and went back to the living room. His eyes hit the top of the coffee table where two wine glasses stood waiting for the fermented grapes.

Lee said, "I figured you for the wine, but knew you'd forget the wine glasses." She gave off a radiant smile that melted his heart.

"You figured correctly as usual Lee. I'll not ask you why you stopped by, but am sure happy you did. I'm not making excuses, but once you get my age, having a relationship with a person of the other sex, isn't easy. The, what do we talk about, surfaces and then I get all flustered. I'm not a deep person at all Lee. I'm just an average guy with all the usual wants and desires. My God, what am I rambling on about here. I'm sorry."

Lee cracked up laughing as she took the bottle of wine and deftly opened it to let it breathe for a few minutes. Then she said, "I was just looking for some conversation and having just moved here, like you, know few people. The one thing going for us Moss is that we know we are safe with each other. With so many wackos out there, we must be careful."

"I agree Lee. Even us guys must be careful. I for would like, if you have a mind to, talk about your experience in Canada both personal and professional. I'm a great listener, but if you'd rather not talk about it, then let's talk about good food."

"I don't mind at all Moss," as took a sip of wine. I was with the Toronto Police for almost fifteen years as first a rookie cop and then as a robbery/homicide detective. I was set up and took a fall that kicked me out of the police force. I was gullible and stupid. In a way I'm glad it happened. I'm much wiser now and it appears this company is what I like. I don't just want to sit in a receptionist desk, but am looking for some hands on stuff like we will do tonight."

"On the personal side, I was married to a cop and he was killed in the line of duty. It took me awhile to get over it and we never had any children. I wanted kids, but we waited too long I guess. Now, it's too late, but life goes on. As for my free time, I write novels. After I was kicked off the force, I went back to school and gobbled up every creative writing class I could. My husband death benefits came shortly after that so financially I was fine. I'm rather successful at writing and can easily live on my royalties. But having a job is good and keeps me on schedule."

"Sounds good Lee. I'm just boring as hell. I spend my time mostly reading. Novels that is and have always subscribed to National Geographic. That's about it. I never get too excited and am cool under pressure."

"Moss, let's move in together. How's that for being forward. I don't beat around the bush. I see by the look on your face you're not so shocked. I think we make a great team. After tonight let's discuss it further."

"I'd like a small house or big house, but a house, not a damn apartment or condo. I like the idea of walking up to a front door and entering my home. I'm not a bad cook. But am totally flexible."

They drank the wine, talked some more and then took a nap together as it seemed to both sex was a little bit early in their new relationship.

Moss woke up first and quietly went to the shower to wake up. While in the shower, shampooing his hair, the shower door opens and in pops Lee. She said, "I can't remember the last time I showered with someone, but I'd sure like a back wash please."

Moss, ever the gentleman, did as requested and she reciprocated both the front and back of his stout body. Moss was shocked at how erect he had become. His thoughts flashed back thirty years. "Lord have mercy," he said, as he released his so long stored sperm.

Lee said, "And God bless the mess."

*~~~~*

Moss and Lee picked up Stu at the office at eight pm. While grazing the salad bar, Stu noticed the two of them acting very different. It took him awhile to figure it out then he smiled at both of them with bulging cheeks of chicken salad. After he swallowed he said, "Okay you two. I see some electricity flowing between the two of you. I'm extremely happy for the both of you. However, we are about to commit murder and you two have found a reason to be attracted to each other. Kind of ironic huh?"

Moss answered, "Yes, Stu we have found something that I can't identify or define, but am comfortable with whatever it is. We both know at this stage of life, nothing is surprising. As usual, Lee here took charge and forced the issue. Men are weak and without motivation as the ARRP knocks on your door."

Stu noticed a grin on Lee's face which meant she agreed with what he said. Stu grinned back at Lee and thought, women are a necessary evil for men. He gave a silent thank you to his wife of many years. Now it was game time. And this game was for keeps as people were about to die and Stu wished he wasn't one of them.

Back at the office, each member of the team spent some time checking their weapons. When they were all satisfied and comfortable with the weapons, they brewed a tasty cup of coffee.

Lee said, "Stu, I'll follow you into Humpty's office and I'll take out his visitors while you make sure he takes a fall and that nobody can put Humpty back together again."

They sat chatting until a couple hours before midnight and then drove to location. It was a cold clear night and a billion stars were shinning down on them. Moss prayed that one of those bright stars was the hand of God ready to reach out and protect the three of them.

Lanky and Taco were waiting for them. Both were dressed in black and hard to see. Moss got out and walked around the side of the building across from the chop shop to whisper into Lanky's ear. Moss told him they would go in right after the limo let the man out. Lanky said he would put the driver in the trunk and make sure he was quiet.

Moss asked if he had friends nearby and Lanky grinned at him and said more than thirty of us are here to take care of business. We'll make sure the workers stay nice and quiet, he told Moss. Moss handed him five grand in cash to pass out to his friends. Lanky felt the envelope and smiled with satisfaction. Taco was listening and watching then said:

"Shit, soon we buy a damn taco stand."

*~~~~*

At almost exactly one am a black stretch limo pulled up to the door. The security guard nodded and passed on making his usual rounds.

Silently, lanky and four of his friends had the driver silenced and stuck in the trunk. Lanky waved at Moss. Moss, Stu and Lee were followed by a herd of Latinos all with stealth cross the open area in front of the warehouse. A few waited for the guard to come around and the rest entered the warehouse.

It was the end of the shift for the night so all the workers were putting their tools away. Moss never looked back as he led the way up the stairs to Humpty's office and on around back where the kids were being kept. Humpty's office was fronted by glass so Humpty could view the happenings down below. Moss continued on around the corner as Stu and Lee entered the office. Moss heard a silenced round being fired and then a bunch more that he couldn't count.

Moss, gun in hand, slowed down and tried to catch his breath from climbing the stairs. Shit he thought, you are not in good shape old man. Silently Moss vowed to hit the gym once the job was over.

He came upon a steel door and listened with his ear against it. Silence greeted him. A sound proof room he figured as he tried the door knob.

Unbelievable it was not locked! That could only mean Vito Guccilio expected company to come. Moss slowly opened the door. The room was lit up like a Hollywood scene with lights everywhere. A stage sat against the back wall. Camera stands with TV type cameras were covering all angles on the stage. Moss quickly looked for the two boys. He saw them draped over a carpeted barrel with their white backsides pointed at the cameras. A slow burn rose from his neck seeing the two innocent kids about to be sodomized.

Moss saw Vito off to the side slowly getting undressed and so intent was he on the two subjects he failed to see Moss moving quickly to the side of him. Moss tapped Vito on the shoulder and when he turned to see the pistol in his face, a look of fear spread across his face as Moss placed a slug between his eyes. The Cardinal fell to the floor and Moss rushed over to untie the two boys.

He told the two boys he was a cop and not to worry that they would be home safe in a little while.

While Moss was making his way to the steel door, Stu and Lee entered the office door to find Humpty sitting behind his desk. Lee saw two black haired Latinos sitting with their backs to the door when Humpty saw the two white people with drawn guns. He tired to get his hand in drawer for a weapon but Stu had slowed him down with a shot to the chest.

Lee quickly shot the other two before they could stand up. Then to make sure Humpty was dead, Stu placed a shot to the temple as Humpty lay on the floor. Lee said, "Stu, I'm going to see what Moss has discovered. He might need some back up."

Stu told her to go ahead and that he would look around for some cash that might come in useful.

Lee found the steel door open and entered gun at the ready. Moss was cutting off the plastic ties around the wrists of the two kids. Then she stopped and stared at the scene in front of her. My God, she thought, this is a television studio complete with cameras and bright lights. She saw at a glimpse Vito the former Cardinal lying naked on the floor.

She panned back to the stage to see Moss had the two crying boys standing up. Lee looked around for something to cover them up with and seeing nothing that looked like their clothes walked up to the blue curtains behind the stage and yanked them down. She took her knife out of her boot and cut two nice sized strips to cover the two boys up. They still had their eyes duct taped and Moss shook his head no to removing the tape. He didn't want the two kids to identify any of them.

With the kids Moss and Lee hurried to the front of the office and found Stu with a sack full of something. He grinned and down the stairs they went. Moss noticed the workers were tied up and duct tape was over their eyes as well.

Going out the door lanky said, "We'll take care of the mess and deliver the boys home. Nobody will want to know who we are."

Stu handed Lanky a black sack and said, "Here this will cover the cost of disposal. Share with the past families of missing love ones, if possible."

"Gracious, any place any time we are available."

Moss and company drove back the office and Moss asked what time it was. Lee looked at her cell phone and said, "It's almost one thirty in the morning. I'm starving and let's go get something to eat."

Chapter X

After an early morning breakfast at a twenty four hour restaurant, Stu went home and Moss went with Lee to her apartment. Lee had refused to put on her old under ware and subsequently had borrowed a pair of Moss' boxer shorts. She'd left her panties to dry in his bathroom.

Yes, Moss felt a little strange being in a woman's bedroom that literally reeked of feminist things. However, he was dead tired and over looked the frilly stuff and crawled into the nice clean sheets.

The next thing Moss knew it was daylight and the smell of coffee reached his nose. He went to the bathroom and then put on his pants and shirt. He walked barefoot to the kitchen where he found Lee humming to herself stirring some eggs in a bowl.

Moss found the kitchen floor cold to his feet, but loved the domestic feeling on the surroundings. Lee's cell rang and she listened and handed it to Moss. Moss said hello and found Stanley on the other end. He said, "Good work Moss. Our client is happy and other than the fact the Latinos scared the crap out of the parents, they quickly forgot about them and rushed the kids inside the house. The parents were so pleased a nice bonus awaits the three of you. Oh, by the way, I'm on my way there now as something has come up. I'll see you around dinner time."

Moss related what Stanley had said as Lee placed a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him with a confident twinkle in her eye.

End.

