That's the Chicago Way - 16. Chapter 16 - War and Peace

THAT’S THE CHICAGO WAY

Jack Scribe

It’s 106 miles to Chicago, we’ve got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes; it’s dark and we’re wearing sunglasses. Hit it!

The Blues Brothers

Chapter 16, WAR AND PEACE

Early evening – 7:30 p.m. Central time. No dining area in Evan’s sparsely furnished apartment meant the two guys needed to sit around the large coffee table. Scotty’s original nonplused assessment of the décor – or lack of – gave way to the conclusion that the dour, impersonal atmosphere was a reflection of its tenant’s psyche. Evan had changed into well-worn sweat pants and a tee shirt while Scotty merely removed his jacket to be a little more flexible. It was obvious Evan was going commando by the bulge flopping in front when he walked, but that was the last thing on Scotty's mind.

He wasn’t particularly hungry so Scotty accepted a cold roasted chicken leg and thigh with sweet mustard for dipping. Evan carved the remaining breast from the carcass and nibbled on that. The Glock 22 rested next to Scotty’s bottle of Fiji Water – within easy reach of his right hand if required.

The interplay between the two men bordered on lethargic, primarily because of Evan. He seemed preoccupied and quietly chewed on an occasional bite. Scotty, on the other hand, was restless, antsy and alert. He was on the job and would consider Evan to be in danger until advised differently. ‘But since this dude wasn’t directly involved with all this Revson shit, I wonder if this is just an exercise in caution?’

They ate in silence and listened to Rufus Wainwright. Poses was wrapping up as the guys finished eating.

All these poses such beautiful poses
make any boy feel as pretty as princes
the green autumnal parks conducting
and the city streets a wondrous chorus singing

“This chow was just enough to tide me over,” Scotty said, before sipping water from the bottle. His plate was almost clean. “How about you?”

Evan looked at his plate for a moment and then turned toward Scotty. “Sorry, I zoned out. What were you asking?”

“Was wondering if you had enough food?” Scotty noticed Evan’s normally dazzling blue eyes were a little unfocused and rimmed with red.

“Guess I’m not hungry after all. It’s been a strange day, to say the least.” Evan pushed his plate aside and added, “Make that a strange week. Look at you: one day you’re Mister Prep, and three days later you appear as this body guard in black.” He leaned back on the sofa. “By the way, some of the other strangeness was good. If you know what I mean.”

“Good strangeness, huh? Yeah…worked for me, too.” Scottie thought about their encounter for a moment and his resulting brownie points at AOI. ‘Worked on a couple levels.’ He looked at his sports watch. ‘Almost quarter to seven.’ He put his semi-automatic in his shoulder holster, stood and picked up his plate. “Garbage under the sink?”

“S.O.P.” Evan paused for a moment and laughed.

“Laughter’s a good sign,” Scotty said. “What’s up…is my fly unbuttoned or something?”

“No. If that was the case, I might be tempted to eat a little more.” Evan rolled his eyes and winked. “What I was thinking is the old Evan would have added ‘darling’ or something just as phony-baloney, and completely unnecessary. I’m working on spiffing up my image. Who knows, maybe I’ll end up liking myself…if nothing else. Among other things, I’m not sure where my career is headed.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself…you haven’t even hit thirty.”

“Yikes, something else to hang on my pity tree.”

“Hey, I’m right behind you in age,” Scotty replied, as he walked to the kitchen. “But they say that’s when things really start cooking…so hang in there.”

Evan followed Scotty and cleaned his plate of the uneaten food. “I won’t even venture to make a play on the past tense of hang.”

“Aren’t you the randy one.” Scotty said. “Excuse me for a minute while I ponder your statement. I’m stopping off at the john to freshen up.” He turned and looked at Evan with a smirk. “And no, to answer your unsaid question, freshening up will not include what's probably on your mind.”

“Talk about who’s randy. Go, go…I’m cleaning up.”

Scotty laughed. ‘That little bit of flirting is just what we both need right now.’ He got back to business by pausing at the front door to make sure everything was secure. ‘Not much protection. Just your basic door lock and chain.’ Scottie continued into the bathroom, closed the door and took an overdue whiz. After washing his hands, he splashed some cold water on his face and studied his features. ‘Time to be alert. This may be a long night.’ He ran through his mental checklist to make sure he’d covered everything. ‘Just in case.’ He wasn’t actually nervous.

Evan was tidying up the kitchen when Scotty returned. All the dishes and glasses from the past several days had been washed and were resting on a drying rack, and the counter was wiped clean. Scotty glanced out to the living room and noticed that the room had been straightened up. His jacket was still resting on a chair, his bag on the floor.

“Cleaning up this pig sty is a good first step at getting my life back to normal,” Evan said.

“You need any help? I could dry.”

“Naw, I’m good. If you don’t have anything else for me, I think I’ll go to my bedroom.” Evan hung the kitchen towel on the oven door handle. “That room’s a disaster and I’m going to attack it now. Then maybe I’ll watch some TV or check out the Internet. I need to…be by myself…and figure things out.”

“Probably for the best. Before you pack it in, there’s one more thing.” Scotty walked into the living room, opened his bag and reached inside. He came back to the kitchen and said, “As a precaution, here’s a shim – a wedge – that I want you to slip under your door when you close it. I’ve been trained to err on the side of caution and this thing, tightly wedged between the bottom of the door and the floor, will slow down anyone trying to come in…uninvited.”

Evan took the rubber shim and studied it. “I’ll give it a try…I don’t have a lock on the bedroom door. You need anything else before I crash?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got a good book in my bag and I brought my laptop. If things get slow, I can always check out the traffic on Adam for Adam.”

“You have a profile on that site?” Evan asked, with a slightly raised eyebrow and smirk. “I’ve got my laptop in the bedroom. We could talk dirty to each other on their IM.”

“After this assignment’s over with, I’ll give you my user name.” Scotty chuckled and added, “But you’ve already got my real name and have inspected me up close and personal…so I guess the user name with all those stats is a redundancy.”

“If nothing else, I’ll know you’re not lying about size.”

Scotty silently shrugged and mugged a ‘so what’ grin. “Now that we’ve got that out of our systems, here’s something serious.” He paused for a moment to let Evan mentally change gears. “I want you to do your bathroom thing now and then take one of those empty water bottles with you to your room. Unless there’s an emergency, you’re in the bedroom for the night.” He reached in his pocket, pulled out a business card and gave it to Evan. “My number’s on the card. If you need to talk…I mean like nine-one-one time…use your cell phone. Mine will be on silent mode but I can see an in-coming call.”

“That’s serious enough for me.” Evan reached under the counter and retrieved an empty plastic bottle. “Guess I’ll find out if I’m a good aim.” He took Scotty’s hand and said, “Thanks…I really mean it. Maybe I won’t have to wedge my bedroom door the next time you’re here.”

“We’ll see.” Scotty smiled slightly, shook Evan’s hand and watched as his handsome but harried host walked to the bathroom. All in all, he wasn’t sure there’d be a next time. ‘This guy might be carrying too much baggage for me to explore any further.’

Back in the living room, Scotty sat down and studied the layout one more time. The huge sofa and the large, stationary coffee table dominated the space, but the two overstuffed easy chairs offered some mobility. There were no mirrors to allow a stranger in the night to see him. ‘Or vice versa, for that matter.’ The sun was quickly setting and grayish shadows were casting about the room. He knew he needed some illumination after nightfall. ‘Possibly using the under-counter kitchen light will be enough.’

His cell phone’s small red light flashed and he picked it up. The [0] on the screen meant the call was coming from an AOI phone.

“Carter.”

“Scotty, Oleg here. How’s Evan?”

“He’s all bundled up in the bedroom…door shim and all.” Scotty was pleased that Oleg Petrov was calling, but he thought this bodyguard assignment was a little too routine for the senior partner from Los Angeles to be checking on. “I’m in the living room going through my mind about how I’m going to lay out things. How’s it with you?”

“To save a lot of questions, AOI L.A. was contracted this afternoon to work with the FBI…run a search and recover operation for Mr. Revson. They found his location in San Marino…that’s just south of Pasadena…and called us to assemble a recon-slash-rescue team. Bottom line, we were successful. Revson’s quite shaken up but now resting, sedated, in a hospital. By the way, this is an on-going FBI operation and you should keep this info to yourself…for now.”

“What can you tell me?” Scotty was somewhat surprised Revson had traveled so far away, undetected, since that past Sunday.

“Revson was drugged and held hostage while some local muscle coerced bank account numbers out of him. Fortunately for all of us, Evan had the presence of mind to alert the Chicago FBI…and that’s where you came in. Once the FBI got a GPS fix, we were contacted. The ops in San Marino, at this pretty fancy mansion, went down about an hour and a half ago. Two associates and myself. We got lucky with very minimal security at the house and were able to catch the suspect by surprise.”Oleg chuckled and said, “I’ve gotta tell you about a funny scene with this guy on another occasion. Last I saw him – a local hood and sometimes private investigator – he was being hauled away, wearing only an apron, by the FBI team. I suspect that it’ll be a very, very long drive to wherever he’s being taken. The Feds need time to verify who he’s working for and they don’t want to give him the opportunity to tip his bust to some mob lawyer.”

“Any specific leads?” Scotty filed away the ‘apron only’ tease for another time. ‘Especially if the dude was hot.’

“Revson was only semi-coherent when I saw him secured to a make-shift chair in the basement. Wasn’t a pretty sight. He kept mumbling the name ‘Rocco’ from time to time. With the suspect’s cell phone handy, the FBI checked it out and several recent calls to Chicago popped up. So the cell is being analyzed – they’ve got warrants pulled to go into the cell’s history, as well as a laptop that was found. Best guess is Revson was talking about Paul ‘Rocco’ Scarrione, Chicago’s top Mafiosi. In fact, Revson referred to him being a ‘cocksucker’ on a couple of delirious rants. He should be so lucky.”

Scotty chuckled but decided not to comment any further on that topic.

“But that cocksucker is the reason I’m calling. With all the evidence, real and circumstantial, we think Evan may be a target...especially being located in your town. There’s that big offshore account out there somewhere that Rocco would love to glom onto and I’m concerned Jankovic is being looked at as potentially having the magic numbers. And with the California contact out of the picture…and not communicating with Rocco any further…those odds just went up. So, as the Boy Scouts say, be prepared.”

“Any idea on a timeframe?” Scotty looked around as the final natural light from the window was fading faster.

“I’d say sooner than later. With sixty plus million at stake, Rocco’s motivated. I’m calling your office as soon as we’re finished and suggesting backup for you. Perimeter surveillance and an undercover patrol in the building. You’ll be called when it’s set up.”

Scotty knew a ‘suggestion’ from Oleg would automatically be handled. “As I mentioned earlier, Evan’s secure in the bedroom and I was just setting up my layout in the living room when you called.”

“Then I won’t keep you any further. Maybe we can get together during my brief stay in Chicago this weekend. I think I mentioned I’m flying in for a little party on Saturday and then out the next day.”

‘Just out of curiosity…is the host of this party Jerry Franklin? If so, then I’ll be there also.”

“Small world. Yes, that’s exactly the party. You know him?”

“A mutual friend invited me…Russ Bennett. I guess he’s known Franklin for some time.”

“ And I know Doctor Russ’s best friend who lives out here. But enough of that…you’re busy and I gotta run. Call me in the morning and we can regroup. Bye.”

Scotty willed himself to mentally unplug his social life and get back to the drill. He went into the kitchen and turned on the light above the stove to the dim position. ‘Nice.’ He closed the shutters in the pass-through counter area of the kitchen. Next, he reached up and unscrewed the light bulb in the hallway ceiling fixture. In the living room, he rearranged the large easy chair so he could jump behind it for protection. After stashing his jacket and laptop behind the sofa, he took out a small hearing-piece device. It was packaged with a small disk, the size of a button. Returning to the front door, he secured the disk – a miniaturized microphone – on the wood frame near the handle and lock.

Scotty looked around while inserting the hearing piece and decided he should follow his own advice. He fished another empty water bottle out of the trash and went back to the living room. He slipped on his Kevlar vest, sat on the sofa and looked at the window. The gray of dusk had turned to the darkness of night. Scotty was reaching into his bag for his novel when he heard an amplified noise of metal scratching. Very tentative at first…then came the unmistakable sound of metal slipping into the lock, tripping the tumblers.

How he would spend time waiting throughout the evening was suddenly a moot point.

‘Oh-oh, it’s show time.’ He quickly removed his earpiece, left the book in the bag and stowed it behind the sofa with everything else. While moving to a protective location behind the easy chair, he could make out the lock’s disengagement as someone turned the doorknob. He drew his Glock and crouched in a motionless position.

The door slowly opened until the chain was taut. A four-inch opening allowed the fifth floor hallway lighting to spill inside and bounce the intruders’ shadows onto the walls of Evan’s apartment. It was an advantage for Scotty.

Whispering.

‘Gotta be a two man operation…highly unlikely this asshole is talking to himself.’ Scotty watched as the blades of a heavy-duty chain cutter moved in – ready to take a bite of the small brass links. With a decisive metallic ‘clunk’ the door chain was history. The shadows were replaced by the reality. One man, dressed in black and carrying a revolver, slowly opened the door and stealthily stepped inside. Smallish – as in 5’ 7” or so – and compact.

Another shadow was moving. ‘Definitely two dudes.’ A taller second man appeared and set down the chain cutter on the floor. He was also holding a gun. The first man stood still while his partner silently closed the door – almost willing the latch to shut without noise. Scotty estimated the second man to be around six-feet in height and weight appropriate. The low light from the kitchen didn’t help Scotty with specific facial features, but that wasn’t important. From the skin tone, he guessed the invaders to be either of Hispanic or Southern European extraction. When both were in the small foyer of the apartment, the taller man tried the light switch.

No response.

It was time for Scotty to take charge of the situation. ‘No time to be Mister Nice Guy.’ Verbal warnings were not part of his plan – getting the upper hand was essential at whatever cost to the criminals.

This was the moment when all the hours on the shooting range were about to pay off. He aimed at the shorter invader’s gun hand and pulled the trigger, instantaneously following with a second shot, shooting the man in the knee. A shot wildly discharged from the shorter man’s gun as he let out a tortured howl. Scotty heard a thwack and thud of the bullet hitting a wall somewhere behind him. He couldn’t determine exactly where the spent bullet went, but fortunately it wasn’t near.

Scotty shifted his position to the other side of the easy chair – a good three feet from the original spot – and was ready to return fire in a nano-second. The man continued to yell in pain and dropped his gun on the hallway tile floor as Scotty caught movement from the taller man. He fired in the direction of Scotty and two shots ripped into the upholstered arm – near where he’d been. Scotty zeroed in on the flash of barrel fire, brought his line of sight upwards and was able to return a stunningly accurate shot. He hit the man’s upper chest area. A little valentine, ‘heart to heart.’

“Urghhhh.” The man flew back against the wall and crumpled. “Oh…fu…”

There was a hiss of air escaping from his lungs.

“Drop all your weapons,” Scotty shouted at the men. ‘Or remaining man…whatever.’ He reached into his pocket, retrieved his cell phone and pressed the preset button signaling that an attack was in progress. The call would go directly into the AOI operations center and activate an emergency response plan. In this case, it included calling 911, alerting the FBI and the AOI backup team.

“Don’t…don’t shoot,” the smaller man said with urgency and pain in his voice. He was leaning against the doorjamb on his good leg, holding his forearm. “Eddie ain’t doing too good. His piece is laying next to him.”

“Very carefully, reach down and push Eddie’s gun away from him,” Scotty replied like a drill sergeant. “Towards me…where I can see it.” He looked down at his cell and saw the red light blinking. It was a 773 area code. ‘Probably Evan.’

A gun slid across the tile floor and landed halfway between Scotty and the intruders at the edge of the living room carpet. It was not within reach of the bad guys by several feet.

“Same with your gun.”

The second weapon landed near the first one.

“What’s your name?”

“Um…Dominic.”

“Okay, Dominic, slide your back down the wall and sit.” Scotty watched while he slowly eased down to the floor. “Can you reach over and get a pulse from Eddie?”

“Do I hafta?”

“Grab his wrist and tell me what you feel,” Scotty replied.

Dominic trembled as he leaned forward and tentatively touched Eddie. He looked at his downed partner and held his two fingers under Eddie’s wrist.

“Nothing.”

“Alright. Now lie down on the floor but don’t block the door. I’ll call for an ambulance.” Scotty watched the man comply and he then recalled his cell was still blinking.

“Carter.”

“Scotty…what the fuck is happening out there?” Evan asked.

“We just had night visitors…two bad guys…but they’re down and out. Stay cool…we’re in great shape…just remain in the bedroom. I’m calling nine-one-one. You doing okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Hang in there. It’s almost over.”

He looked at the two men – one sprawled on his back, the other crumpled. ‘Situation under control.’

Scotty immediately dialed 9-1-1, identified himself and relayed all the pertinent information. He hedged his description of the two men injured by saying one perpetrator had life-threatening injuries, while the other one was stable with two wounds.

The next step was to ascertain the condition of Eddie, verify Dominic was pacified and evaluate the crime scene. First and foremost, Scotty wanted an assurance that he and Evan were safe from harm. He passed the two weapons and walked by the immobile form of Dominic flat on his back, tried carefully not to step in the blood, and turned on the kitchen light. The man was totally absorbed in corralling his pain. Scotty cautiously approached Eddie and visually verified the damage. Blood soaked the man’s shirt and had splattered the wall. He placed his middle and index fingers next to Eddie’s Adam’s apple and felt for a pulse.

Faint to nothing.

There was nothing to do for Eddie but wait for the EMS to arrive. Scotty cautiously opened the front door a few inches and saw a few neighbors huddled nearby. Fortunately, he’d kept his hand holding his Glock behind the door and the crack in the door opening would make it difficult for anyone to take a picture of him. ‘Time to make lemonade and not scare them any further.’

“My name is Scott and I’m working with the FBI.” Scotty decided to use his first name. He could be truthful but not reveal that much about himself.

Scotty paused and looked at each of the five people – three middle-aged women and two younger men. “You’re probably aware there’s been a serious incident in this apartment. Evan – the tenant – is fine.” He waited while this information had a chance to be digested by the strangers. “I have called the police and ambulance. I would appreciate it if you would direct them here as soon as they arrive.” He nodded and added, “For your safely, please return to your apartments. Thank you.”

He closed the door and went to the bedroom door while keeping an eye on Dominic. “How are you doing?” he asked.

“Doing…fuckin’ pain.”

“What are you guys driving?” Scotty asked.

“Gray BMW…SUV,” Dominic mumbled. “It’s just off the Drive on Schiller.”

“Stay loose…help’s on the way.” Scotty stood in front of the bedroom door and knocked. “Evan, everything is secure here. However, it’s a little messy with what happened to the two intruders. You want to come out or stay in the bedroom until the cops get here?”

“What do you think?”

“Pull away the shim and stay where you are,” Scotty replied. “Your apartment is officially a crime scene and the police need as clean a space as possible for their investigation. Can I get you a real drink after I do a few things?”

“Whoa, that would be sweet. There’s some open white wine in the fridge. Just pour to the top of the glass.”

“No portion control…got it.” Scottie stepped carefully by the messier part of the scene and reached the kitchen. ‘First things first,’ he thought, retrieving his cell. He pushed the AOI speed dial button and simultaneously put his Glock in his shoulder holster.

“Carter reporting. Situation neutralized and under control. One perp possibly dead, another with wounds on his hand and knee. I’ve contacted locals…expect police and EMS within minutes.”

“Mr. Brooks will be notified of your status. I know he’ll be pleased with the results,” said the AOI shift coordinator. “The FBI was contacted and they should be on-site within fifteen minutes.”

Scotty was happy his boss Jon Brooks was in the loop. “Is the FBI planning on taking over the investigation?” He primarily wanted confirmation of what he’d suspected would happen.

“That’s the plan. You should be helpful to the locals until the FBI arrives. They will verify your I.D. and role in this operation.”

“And then de-brief the FBI. Understand,” Scotty said. “Please tell AOI responders that I’ve got everything under control. It might be helpful if they could I.D. the vehicle these dudes came in. It’s a gray Bimmer SUV parked on Schiller near Lake Shore Drive.”

“Confirm, BMW…SUV…gray…Schiller off L.S.D.”

Scotty heard someone pounding on the front door. “I’ve got visitors. Hold on.” He went to the front door and opened it. In front of him stood four uniformed policemen with weapons drawn. “CPD. Out.”

“Are you Scott Carter?” asked the lead cop.

“Yes, Sir,” Scotty replied. “Come in and I’ll explain what happened.” He looked over at the two thugs and added, “Watch out for the mess inside the doorway.”

The FBI – including special agent Adam Frawley – arrived shortly after the first policemen and EMS were on scene, followed by two CPD detectives and a CSI unit. Eddie, barely clinging to life, was quickly transported to nearby Northwestern hospital. However, with a patch-up from the EMS team, Dominic was held for questioning before a trip to Cook County hospital. Reading him his Miranda Rights didn’t deter Dominic from ‘spilling the beans.’ He indirectly fingered Rocco by telling the FBI that a middleman in the Scarrione family had ordered them to kidnap Evan.

Kidnap was just the buzzword for the Feds to kick into gear. It was now a bookend with the case in San Marino.

Scotty joined Evan in the bedroom as soon as Eddie was wheeled away in a gurney and described in detail what had happened – edited to omit the gore and his accurate marksmanship.

“I’m more than glad…make that relieved…that you stashed me in here,” Evan said.

“That move comes from a section of my hide-a-hunk manual,” Scotty replied with a grin. "By the way, I just remembered I never got a chance to get you that glass of wine."

“ Maybe we can do that another time?”

“ Maybe.” Scotty saw agent Frawley at the door talking to his team. “We’ve still got work to do. The FBI needs to record your recall of what happened and I’m going to pack for you. You’re leaving this apartment for a while…so change into whatever street clothes you want to wear.”

“What…”

“Don’t even ask. Rocco and his goon squad are still out there.”

“Okay…there’s a green bag in the closet and you can go from there. I guess we don’t have time to color-coordinate?” Evan winked and added, “Just joking.”

Scotty watched Evan as put on a sweatshirt, low-cut white socks, and sneakers. He liked what he saw.

Frawley came in and got a statement from Evan. Scotty eased into the background while the interview was in process and packed enough casual clothes in a large, carry-on satchel for an absence that would last at least a few days. He also found Evan’s dopp kit and cleaned out the bathroom of necessary toiletries. The FBI had arranged for Evan to stay in a safe house until ‘things got sorted out.’ This was FBI talk for hiding Evan’s butt until they found Rocco and associates.

When Frawley was finished and left the bedroom, Scotty opened his arms and smiled. “Time, now, for an official hug.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Evan said as he moved close to Scotty and was smothered in an embrace – the hug was brotherly rather than a grinding of body parts.

The two men held each other and Evan started crying. Not heavy, heaving sobs…but a steady stream of tears with just an occasional shudder. He gripped harder before stepping away.

“Scotty, I never imagined I’d be in a mess like this…and then to find a guy that I can like a lot.” Evan sighed and shook his head. “But that’s all on hold for now…right?”

“On hold.” Scotty paused. ‘Don’t want to give Evan any false hope, nor do a dump job on him.’ He picked up the packed satchel and handed it to Evan. “Here’s enough clothes for you to get by for a while. If I didn’t choose stuff that’ll make you a fashion plate, I apologize in advance. It’s time for you to do a disappearing act…like David Copperfield…until the FBI nails Rocco.”

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” Evan said, gripping the heavy bag. “Will I be able to call the office tomorrow and direct things until I can return? I’m not indispensable…but people rely on me to point them in the right direction.”

“You’ll have a safe landline to use where you’ll be living and you have your laptop. Do your thing but don’t reveal where you’re staying.”

“Got it.” Evan nodded with a sigh. “I know there’s no way to determine when I can re-surface…but do you suppose we can get together again when this is all over?”

“Buddy, I live one day at a time.” Scotty stood straighter and looked directly into Evan’s eyes. “But I promise we’ll see each other…like cross my heart…sooner than later. FYI, we’ll be sending a maintenance team here to thoroughly clean things up and restore everything to the way your apartment looked before…you know. AOI will probably spring for an upholstery allowance. Anything else you need?”

“My cell phone and my small bag. It has my laptop and all my current work papers.” Evan said.

“Okay, I got it and we’re outta here.” Scotty grabbed Evan’s laptop bag from the floor and gestured for him to walk forward and out to the hallway. “Do yourself a favor…don’t look at the mess as we walk through the area around the front door.”

Even though Eddie and Dominic had been dispatched to their respective hospitals, the blood smears on the tile hallway floor and splatters on the wall were prominent. Evan avoided looking down at the floor and wall as he carefully left the bedroom. There were two CSI team members still working on the crime scene, along with Agent Frawley. Scotty nudged Evan along and they were out in the fifth floor hallway in short order. Except for another FBI agent, the area was empty.

Scotty handed Evan’s laptop bag to the agent and said, “Evan, you’ll be in good hands. Hang in there.”

“Thanks, again…for everything.” Evan grinned and added, “Gawd, that sounds so lame. I owe ya.”

As Evan walked towards the elevator, Scotty began to mentally list all of the paperwork he’d be generating in the office the next day. He was distracted by the way Evan’s buns clung to his sweatpants. ‘Damn, the dude does look good all butched up.’

________________________

TO BE CONTINUED

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