Choke - Chapter 86

   Merry and Panic rushed through a quick swim. For some reason, Merry brushed her teeth laying face down on the rock with her head and shoulders hanging over. Somehow this struck both of them as funny, watching her spit over the rock. He laid face down next to her and did it as well. The only thing they couldn't rush was Merry's oiling and drying. Panic rubbed it all in non stop to hurry it up. They just made lunch coming hot off the campfire grill, so none of the hustling went to waste.

   Panic was inordinately happy and relieved, when he began to see a lot more of the old Merry, the Merry he knew. She talked more, she waved, she smiled, she joined in conversations. The only two things remaining now, seemed to be she was still nervous about taking "big girl bites" as she phrased it when she ate, and she tried to her absolute best not to laugh too hard. It made her throat hurt, and she said it would put her back a day or two and she was sick of this and wanted it gone.

   While no one coming in was a surprise, Matt the lab god calling Panic and telling him he was getting close was a surprise on timing. He explained his boss had heard his pitch, and was all smiles about it. Ended up telling him to leave for the rest of the day and not worry about it, he would punch him out at the normal time himself. Matt told him he had always been a decent boss, but none of this "like my own son" bullshit he was putting through him. Merry listened in by mugging her cheek up against Panic's own, and heard a little girl bouncing around in the vehicle, and a woman telling her she had to put her seat belt back on and sit down in the car seat.

   "That's the lab guy working on the poison report. To help me, isn't it."

   Panic nodded.

   "I'll wait on him hand and foot, if it doesn't make his wife mad."

   "Actually? I don't think they're married yet."

   "He's the dad, as far as you can gather, right?"

   "I guess so."

   "They rent a house together?"

   "That's what he said."

   "How old is the little one?"

   "Five, I'm pretty sure."

   "Same thing as married. That piece of paper can't make anyone do anything, and it can't stop anyone from doing anything."

   "Merry? I was just wondering, if you could maybe… not do any lectures about the state of the modern male female relationship while they're here. Huh? Don't scare the poor kids."

   "Sure thing."

   When they arrived a short time later, Skykid had already made both hot and sweet sausage, as well as kielbasa for hoagies. He swiveled the big cast iron griddle on its post back into some heat and insisted they eat. Panic insisted on putting his arm around the guy's shoulder, and introducing him to everyone. Merry and Panic both pulled their chairs up to the new couple, and Merry fetched both of them anything they wanted to drink. Merry made sure she got the little girl her own soft drink. The tiny girl smiled and had obviously been taught to do a cute little high five.

   When Merry asked how old she was, she said…

   "Five…"

   Then quickly added in a loud stage whisper, that it was…

   "Almost? Six".

   Matt took Panic aside gently, and started explaining something to him…

   "Hey. I know we got all weekend, I just wanted to do this before I forget."

   "What. Everything's going okay?"

   "Yeah, sure. Fine. Just… look. Remember I had you sign those… stickers?"

   "All right. I do."

   "We… are supposed to get material for evidence, in an official baggie. It's not going to be a problem. I had you sign the stickers, and I put the evidence back into the… official baggies."

   "You sure this isn't an issue…"

   "Not at all. Just… it came in those baggies, in the first place. If you know what I mean here."

   "Oh. Sure. I would never use… discount store baggies, for anything as, um… important as that. No way. Never."

   "Right. So, here…"

   Matt handed him "official" evidence baggies, in fact a small stack of them.

   "Look. I know it doesn't affect the results. You know it doesn't affect the results. Prosecution knows it just as well. Defense attorneys? They know it too, but…"

   "Gotcha. I… always use the right kind of baggies."

   "Hey, I know there's nothing underhanded going on, if I thought there was, I wouldn't do this. I mean, I wanna help out any way I possibly can, but I would never… do any kinky shit with lab results. I just can't. Or, I won't. Whatever it is. But… I believe it doesn't affect results, and I wouldn't want anything to happen."

   Panic leaned in conspiratorially…

   "Anyone else know about this?"

   Matt shook his head no.

   "We'll keep it that way, right?"

   Panic smiled and winked easily.

   "We'll keep what that way? I'm sorry. I'm having a senior moment. What were we even talking about?"

   Matt smiled and nodded.

   "You said it was an attempted murder. The victim still doing okay?"

   "Yeah, Matt. The victim is doing okay. You know you met her, right?"

   "Who."

   "The woman who got attempted murdered."

   "Really? When…"

   Panic smiled and pointed. At Merry, bending over talking to the little girl.

   "That's her."

   "You mean, the victim, is…"

   Panic smiled.

   "Yeah. So… thanks."

   "Hey. No problem."

   "One thing, Matt. Just one tiny rule here at camp…"

   "Oh. Sure…"

   "That woman? You met her…"

   "Yeah. She's nice."

   "You didn't meet her. She's also a witness, in a big case that hasn't entirely broke yet. She can't go into town, she stays here. All the nice men with guns around? It's the safest place to stash her. So… you never met her, right?"

   Matt smiled.

   "I never met who?"

   "Exactly. Now… let's just have fun all weekend. The closest we'll come to working, will be you meeting your at-a-boy callers, and drinking beer with 'em."

   "My boss said he's jealous, that I'm out here instead of him."

   "Good. You did the work, not him. He's just a guy that took phone calls and passed the buck. He who threshes the wheat? Eats the loaf of bread."

   "Anything I need to know about meeting these guys? That I should…"

   "Not a thing. Regular guys. We're gonna eat and drink beer and make fart jokes like high school kids. Trust me, I work with these guys, they're regular guys, nothing to worry about."

   "Well? Thanks."

   "You're welcome, not a problem. Look… I'm motivated. The poisoning victim? My girl. I'm beyond motivated. I just need some special pieces of paper from you, to get the person that did this. Now, you like to get pieces of paper, for your file? Hey. Not a problem, paper for everybody, way I see it. And it's not just me, personally. She's a witness in a big case, plenty of other people happy too. I'm thinking… at least four pieces of paper in your file. The one guy? He has a special interest in the witness too, I'll see about if he knows anyone to call about you… see if there's any openings where you wanna get to."

   "Are you handling your own case?"

   "No. I'm investigating. I'm a consultant, I investigate. I'm going to hand it all over to Pennsylvania State Police. Homicide. Everything by the numbers, no one wants anything to go wrong."

   "The case going good?"

   "Yeah, it actually is. I just need a warrant, and I'll be good. I'm trying to rush, because… you know…"

   "Yeah, you want the sample still there, when you officially find it."

   "Bingo. One more piece of paper. All right… we're done talking work then…"

   "Sure."

   "Great. Let's get you a beer, another hoagie?"

   "I just had a hoagie. I wanna wait on the beer. It's early yet. Trust me, I'm fine."

   "Okay…"

   On the way back to sit down from their quiet little moment, Panic raised his voice.

   "Merry! Get him another can of pop, would you?"

   Merry and Panic had just settled into sitting around the other couple and small talking again, when the little girl ran up to Skykid and tugged his jeans. After some pointing on her part, and some laughing on his part… he cut a couple small pieces of kielbasa and sweet sausage up on a small Styrofoam plate she carefully and comically carried back to her little folding camp chair, seated next to her mom.

   "Rob…"

   "Robbie!!"

   "What?"

   "You think you ought to do anything?"

   Rob looked around.

   "Like…?"

   "Did you maybe notice, there's a five year old running around this weekend?"

   "Yeah. And for the record? She says she's almost six."

   "Great. Where is the five, almost six year old at right now?"

   "Uh… sitting with mom and dad. Why?"

   "Rob. That's going to last, all of ten seconds. Then? She's going to start… exploring. You think maybe, you wanna lock the armory up? Tell everyone to make sure they don't leave anything laying around, that they shouldn't?"

   "Aren't you the RSO? That stands for Range Safety Officer, you know. This? Is a range. You? Are the French safety officer."

   "Oh. I thought you were the Sergeant at arms. Which makes you, the security officer. Are we shooting on the range right now? Plus… I'm cooking. Deal with it, would you? Before the six year old comes running out the bunk house with someone's carry piece, not after."

   Rob banged two cast iron pots together, hard. It made the loud clanging noise that both got everyone's attention, as well as made Skykid watch his precious cast iron pans getting whacked around like church bells. Skykid shook his head, feigning disgust. Rob addressed everyone.

   "Guys! You all met our guests, right?"

   A few small shouts went up, playfully.

   "Let's make sure, we don't leave anything laying around. Keep your carry piece strapped, but… anything else? Either lock it up in your vehicle, or… the armory."

   "What about the bunkhouse?"

   "Knives and primers, in the metal cupboard…"

   Matt smiled…

   "Really, we'll keep an eye on her. You don't have to go to any trouble…"

   Skykid smiled and piped up.

   "Nah, no trouble. Besides, good practice. We'll all be coming in with the wives and kids soon. You can let the little one run around."

   Rob added.

   "Yeah. What's the point of taking little kids to the woods, if they can't run around."

   "All right. Honey? Tell her it's like grand dad's house. She can run around, but not too far. Okay?"

   The little girl developed a habit of running up to Skykid, and tugging at him. She quickly learned she got a little bite of food every time she did it. Rob horsed around with the little girl, and got her to play fight with him. He got her all wound up, and they took turns chasing each other around the camp. He chased her with a stick, swinging it at her impossibly slow while making scary faces. He would "drop" it, and she would pick it up and chase him. The little girl eventually cajoled Sky into "horsy rides". When he had to go back to watching the cooking, he passed off horsy duties to Little Robbie.

   Skykid, ever helpful… showed the little girl how to steer her horse. By tugging on his ears.

   "Thanks, Sky. That? Is just wonderful…"

   "Ain't it?"

   After a while, the girl started coming up behind Rob, and standing there smiling. Waiting for more play. When she didn't get it, she started tugging at his work pants. Rob pretended to turn around, and look around, and wonder who was tugging on him. He didn't see anyone when he turned around, and this game went on for some time.

   "Oh, I didn't even see you down there."

   Later on, the little girl wasn't happy until she got to sit on Rob when he was in a chair huddled up with Panic and Merry and their guest couple.

   Merry smiled.

   "I didn't know you liked kids, Little Robbie."

   "Eh. They're okay. I like little kids. You just gotta know how to cook 'em right. You gotta simmer them all night, so they come out tender."

   The mother was aghast for about half a second until she realized Rob was joking, then laughed nervously.

   "You ain't gonna cook me!"

   "Sure am…"

   Rob carried her out at arm's length, and kept asking Skykid if he had a pot big enough to cook her in. Skykid helped find the cooking pot, and the little girl kicked and squealed with delight as they tried to shove her into the biggest soup pot they had available. She came back smiling, and hiding behind Merry. Hide and seek ensued.

   Later, the little girl was back on his lap again.

   "You won't cook me?"

   "No. I promise… gonna make jerky outta you!"

   More running around, more kicking and squealing. Rob and Skykid each grabbed an arm and a leg, and were going to one, two, three… throw her into the fire, to make jerky. The little girl "escaped" again, and this time wanted up on Merry's lap. She smiled and hid her face while latching onto Merry, every time the guys tried to "grab" her and haul her off for food.

   The little girl was on and off Merry's lap several times, and she liked her new comfortable seat which was Merry's lap and frame. When the mother tried to cajole her off of her, Merry smiled and said it was fine. Somewhere along the line, before Merry realized it, she had suddenly become Aunt Merry. She raised her eyebrows at the parents when she finally realized she was related now.

   Matt chuckled.

   "Oh, mom here? Has two sisters. They babysat her enough growing up? Any woman she likes, that's nice to her? Is her Aunt. Mom here works at a day care, and… the other girls there are all Aunts too."

   Anytime Merry got another soft drink, the little one wasn't happy until she got a sip out of her cup. The parents tried to chide her, but Merry smiled them off and said it was fine.

   "I'm glad I'm not having a drink, or we'd actually have a problem."

   By the time it was starting to dusk up, the little girl was once again back on Aunt Merry's lap, threatening to curl up for good and either take a nap or go to sleep. One of the guys pointed at the new addition to Merry's lap and wondered aloud for the adult's benefit if Panic and Merry had a kid and he hadn't noticed. When her eyes started to close, the little girl would force them open and wanted a bite of food or a sip of her soft drink. Then, the lids would get heavy again.

   Rather than transfer the little tyke to the mother to put her to sleep, then try to lay her down and cover her up and all without waking her up… Merry just carried her into the bunkhouse and laid her on an empty bunk and twin mattress. The parents went and got her blanket and pillow to finish it off. Merry and the parents did a final check around to make sure there was nothing bad for her little fingers to get into if she woke up and got curious, then closed the door quietly.

   "She'll be fine. It's the weekend, the boys will be up for a while. She's right there, we can check on her. If she gets up? The door isn't locked, it's not like she's trapped or anything."

   Speedy got in first, followed quickly by Senior and JG. Mike arrived last. They had played highway tag to get to the camp like usual, but he had stopped off for gas and snacks. Both IA guys arrived shortly after, because they had been tagging more with Mike for the trip.

   Speedy wasn't as frazzled as last time, though he was by no definition of the word well rested. He wanted to talk to Panic and Merry immediately and quietly. So did Mike shortly after. Both IA guys just waved and said their hello's and headed straight for the little social pile up occurring around the two of them. The wife politely excused herself and let everyone go at it.

   Everyone that arrived, after making a beeline for Merry and Panic, remarked about her new voice. Merry got used to holding her chin up, to show off her emergency trake scar. Both IA guys were quietly livid.

   "She can't stay here."

   "Well? Where the fuck do you want to stick her? Down in DC… great idea there."

   "Go with a federal safe house."

   "Yeah. That's probably okay. I don't like probably."

   "Better odds than this shit!"

   "Is it? If we don't get probably okay, we're out of the frying pan, and into the fire."

   Mike took charge gently.

   "Everyone calm down. Speedy… Senior… you're both homicide. What do you two think?"

   Speedy and Senior eyed each other, and shrugged.

   "I'm interstate homicide. I need assigned, or I'm just an over qualified civilian. Was the perpetrator from out of state?"

   Panic shook his head. Everyone looked at Speedy.

   "What? I'm worse than Senior on this. I'm not from this state. If she didn't travel to Illinois for this, what do you want me to do officially?"

   Mike cut both IA guys off politely.

   "It's my witness. I call Pennsylvania Homicide."

   Speedy looked at Panic.

   "We call with what? Go. You're on. You were here. You told me you have something."

   Panic went through everything. When one of the IA guys questioned who Matt was and why he was even in the conversation, Panic cut him off.

   "That's my lab guy. Right now? He's just about the entire case."

   "Sorry. Matt, right?"

   "Yeah."

   "Sorry we weren't introduced yet. Don't mind me. My nerves are shot. We got a huge case riding on this witness. I can't stash her anywhere in DC. I stash her up here? It's been nothing but chaos. How sure are you about the poison."

   "You want me to go through a list of tests in detail."

   "No. I don't speak lab. On a scale from one to ten, how sure are you about your results."

   "From one to ten? It's an eleven. I not only ran every test I had to, I ran every test possible. Then? I ran them all twice, some of them three times. I'd bet my life on it."

   "Okay. And the chain?"

   "Solid. I got an FBI employee at the scene, I got hand delivered an evidence baggie. I broke the signed seal right on camera. I only work on camera. When I'm done for the day? It goes back in the vault."

   "Mike? That does it for me. What about you?"

   "I don't speak lab either. I called the guy in charge of the lab, asked for someone good. Someone thorough, someone trustworthy. This guy? Is who they put on it. He has an unblemished record. He says he has enough sample left over for independent analysis. Seems solid."

   "That's about all the facts we get to start with, Mike."

   Panic held a finger up.

   "Not exactly. I'm not flying on my hunch any more. I know. I just can't use it."

   "You have proof of this?"

   "Yes. I have proof. No, it's not legit."

   Everyone looked around at each other…

   "Well?"

   "Anyone wanna watch a little movie, off the record? Call it surveillance without a warrant."

   They all watched the movie. Panic explained everything in detail. Even down the the book samples he read. Everyone looked at Mike.

   "Ah. We found the smoking gun. We know where it is. For now, anyways. Anyone have any ideas on how to get a judge to sign off on a search warrant for the house? We just have to get in the house, legally. The coke will keep us in the house, as long as we want. Once we find the coke… we search for more possible drugs. The jars of dried leaves? Suspected marijuana. Boom. It has to be tested at a lab. The same lab? Was already working on an attempted murder. When they find the same substance used in the poisoning? Ta-da."

   "That's all after we're in the house. We still need to get in."

   Senior scrunched his face up.

   "Pick her up on suspicion… interviewer claims he doesn't like the feeling he gets talking to her… try to get a friendly judge to sign off on that much. And yes, I know it's so thin, I can see through it. Speedy?"

   Speedy calculated out loud…

   "If I need to get into a structure? I always went about it two ways. One… an anonymous tip. You just need a voice on the phone and have it recorded. But… my old reliable… I always worked the vehicle… if you just happen to know something is in the car? You can get paper based on the contents of the car, if it warrants further investigation."

   "All right. How are we supposed to know when she has something in her car?"

   "Kinda obvious she sells coke at the bar. She has to have to coke on her going to work."

   "Hmm. We only get one shot at it. If she stashes it at work, until she needs more? We shot our wad and missed the hole."

   Speedy eyed Panic.

   "Please tell me, that you didn't print the whole house up when you were in there. Once we hit the scene, we don't wanna have to explain why your prints are all over the house from top to bottom."

   "Watch the movie again if you don't believe me. You can see my gloves on. If you noticed? I was careful getting the sample outta the little jar, it should still be covered in her prints."

   Speedy kept working the car angle.

   "This is where people go ahead and plant something in the car. The problem is? No one would believe she had a baggie of something in the car, with no prints on it. The whole thing would stink to high heaven. It would make what we find in the house come under suspicion."

   "We need to come up with something. Everybody? Just think about some way to get a warrant all weekend. Okay?"

   Everyone agreed to mull it over. Everyone started splitting up for the time being. Simply by not moving, Mike ended up sitting with Panic and Matt.

   "Sorry about that, Matt. He really didn't mean anything personal. He just got here, he didn't know who you were. Hope you don't take it personal."

   "Aw, it's fine. Guy's nervous about a big case, right?"

   "I looked in on your report. On the computer. Like I said, I don't speak lab, but… it looks impressive. I hope that's not an insult."

   "How could it be an insult, that you're impressed."

   "I'm used to seeing shorter lab reports."

   "Oh… right. You read summaries before. Yeah, a lot more short and to the point. The full report? That's what you were looking at."

   "What's with all the video clips? I feel like I'm in high school chemistry class, watching a lab film. All you're missing is the voice-over."

   "Yeah… I have to put dates and times down, on every test. When I start, when I stop. That? Once I type it in… automatically pulls a little video clip up. You get to see the hands of the tech doing the test."

   "It's an impressive system, but… why?"

   "You want the short answer, or the long answer."

   "Both? I'm just curious."

   "Short answer. No one can say we didn't perform tests. You get to see proof the test was done."

   "Long answer?"

   "Basically the same thing. But… let's face facts. A jury is just 12 people stuck in a room together, and they're not allowed to go home until they make a decision. No one expects any one of them to understand the in's and out's of any test. You ever hear about the big lab scandal, I wanna say it was a big city in Texas some years back."

   "Oh. You don't mean the one where they had a shit lab, contaminated samples, all that?"

   "That? Was the watered down version most people remember from the newspapers and the TV. They had testimony? You told the lab what result you wanted? That's the result you got. Let's face the facts. The jury? Really has no idea. The judge? The lawyers? Even the prosecutor? No one knows what's really going on. How does anyone in that courtroom… really know anything at all, except a magic piece of paper came back and says something."

   "Expert testimony the other way."

   "Right. You got another lab worker, who makes an argument that it could be a flawed test. He lists possible reasons how it can happen. Then? The prosecution's lab testimony swears to god, everything is perfect. Some… soccer mom on the jury. The technical language doesn't mean anything to her, she's looking at the lab tech's face, listening to the voice. That's what she's really basing her vote on. What shoes the tech is wearing, probably influence her decision more than what's on that piece of paper."

   "Wow. I expected a lab tech, to sing the praises on technology."

   "Oh, I do. But… in the end? That's what it comes down to. Want me to scare the pants off of you, Mike?"

   Mike smiled and chuckled…

   "Yeah, sure. I need that in this stage of my career, right?"

   "Scary bedtime stories. Here's what was going on in Texas. You got something from the suspect. You draw blood from him. The lab? Simply rubs some blood on, dries it, then finds it. Then they run the tests. DNA? They pulled the same shit. They had several courtroom techs, that looked good and sounded good. In court. And hey… they got a piece of paper with some numbers on it. They give a pretty spiel of gobble-gook no one really understands anyways… really not that hard."

   "How did they ever go down?"

   "Honestly? Their lab system was winning awards for the best conviction rates in the nation. Someone got curious about that. Couple lab techs had trouble sleeping, realizing what they were doing."

   "That's not a scary bedtime story… that's a nightmare."

   "Yeah. Now… doesn't every defense lawyer, get the last chance at swaying the jury? He's allowed to say practically anything, he's allowed to suggest almost anything."

   Mike wagged his head.

   "Eh. Closing arguments, sure."

   "Any good defense lawyer? Will reference that case. He will stop short of accusing the lab of rubber stamping whatever results the cops want, but… let's say, maybe one of the arresting cops sounds like he's speaking cop-ese on how he pulled the car over. Maybe the lab tech testifying? Just happens to look a little bit like some lying prick the juror knows where they work. That's all it takes."

   Mike sighed.

   "Reasonable doubt. It's a bitch."

   "Well… my lab? We have a budget. We have rules. You can see my own two hands performing any test I do. I have a grade one run a simple test? Grade one's basically run the same tests, over and over. I can tell you exactly which one ran which test. You can watch their hands doing it. No lawyer can make a up a story like… what if they sneezed and contaminated the sample? What if they spilled some coffee in it? Because it's all on cameras. And if anyone questions it? You can look at my hands and see it's the same hands in the video. You don't have to take my words for the DNA test coming back positive. You can see the little containers turn black for yourself, right on camera."

   "Well, I remember when I was younger… they did spend a lot of money, remaking all the labs in our system. I remember the budget meetings. Glad all that money wasn't wasted. So… Texas? Doesn't ever happen again."

   Matt belly laughed.

   "What?"

   "Never mind. I don't wanna offend you…"

   "No. Go ahead. What."

   "The whole damn country, is being lied to. Every day, tens of thousands of times every day, across the nation. Every police department, from the smallest to the largest, is in on it. Willingly. Whether they know it or not."

   "Why am I going to regret asking this, but… go ahead…"

   "DUIs. It's the most non scientific thing in the world, to any real lab tech. I had it demonstrated in college. It's the truth."

   "How?"

   "Go back in time. DUIs used to be… loose. Basically, if a guy was falling over, you had him down at the station, slurring and falling over in his chair. That? Was a DUI back then."

   "Then they tightened it up."

   "Right. Someone, somewhere… decided .10 was legally drunk. It's just a line someone drew in the sand."

   "You gotta have a line, it has to be somewhere."

   "Okay. If you were willing to spend the money, for a lawyer that knew what he was doing? It was possible to beat a DUI. In court. It worked on marginal cases."

   "How?"

   "Pretty easy. The lawyer, brings in three, brand new, drunk-a-lyzers. State of the art, best any department can buy. All three? Have been meticulously calibrated, and certified. The lawyers? Let the prosecution open the boxes, and read the certification sheets. Couldn't be any more fair."

   "What happens?"

   "What all lab techs know. A test subject, with a real medical doctor… blows into all three machines. Ran by the prosecution, by the way. All three give a zero."

   "Okay…"

   "The lawyer takes out a brand new bottle of vodka. Let's everyone smell it. It's vodka. Breaks the seal. The test subject? Is administered a precise amount of vodka. Short recess, and the subject stays, and the bailiff watches them. Then? after recess… everyone comes back in. The subject blows into all three machines. Guess what comes up?"

   "Everything the same. Or, almost the same."

   "Yeah, that's what everyone is taught. On the TV. In reality? It doesn't. Three brand new, start of the art drunk-a-lyzers. All with impeccable, real certification and calibration. All three? Give different results."

   "Two .09s, and one .08 is not a big deal…"

   "Nope. I'm talking… one says .05… one says .10… and one? Says .14…"

   "You're serious?"

   "Right hand up to god. Wanna know how the courts responded?"

   "Afraid to ask…"

   "They simply made it illegal, to question the results of the machine."

   "I never heard about that one."

   "Look it up. Matter of public record. Everyone just plays let's pretend and doesn't put it on the news. Then? There's the matter of human beings."

   "What?"

   "As a kid. You ever drink outside, in the winter? You know, a bonfire, a keg party. What does everyone learn that ever partied outside. About going indoors…"

   Mike chuckled.

   "Forgot about that one. Yeah, you're walking and talking pretty okay outside, in the cold. You go inside and it's hot? You about fall over."

   "Bingo. That's your blood vessels expanding and contracting. When you're in the cold? Your blood vessels expand. Lets more blood reach the skin. It's how your body regulates temperature. When your blood vessels suddenly contract? It drives the percentage up, in your blood. Now… human beings are human beings. Ever notice if the cops take you down to the station? To blow? Little insider's trick, that the room the blow machine is in, has the thermostat set on 90. Why? Because every DUI gets you more money pouring in. It's a profit incentive. You want your buddy to not get a DUI, he's marginal? You wait an hour, and open the window and turn the thermostat down low. That's in the winter. In summer? You crank the AC on high. You can almost double the results, or, cut them in half. Whatever you want."

   "You're not done yet, are you?"

   "Nope. I'm very thorough. I read up on this, always stuck in my craw, after the demo we had in college about results, and how we have to be careful. In the lab."

   "Go on…"

   "Then? People started finally not drinking and driving nearly as much. DUI arrests were going down. I mean, that's what the system wanted, right? Made so much money, and you aren't allowed to contest the results anyways. Why not just lower the threshold from .10 to .08… Gotta keep those numbers up. It's a cash cow for the system."

   "Hmm. I guess I see your point."

   "Now. You go and ask any state policeman. Those guys? Are good at figuring out who's drinking and driving behind the wheel. By watching them drive. Guess what they all report?"

   "What?"

   "They honestly, on average? Can't tell a .08 by following them. At .10 and up? They begin to. They dropped the threshold to .08, and the cops couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. So… they started with the DUI roadblocks. You set up a checkpoint charlie, and everyone gets harassed and has to blow. Now, follow my logic. If the state police, can't see anything in how the people are driving, how unsafe is it really. You now have to blow everyone that drives along the road, to keep the numbers up. They keep talking about lowering it to .04. Which honest to god, is just silly."

   "That it?"

   "No. They invented a special training course, that a cop can take. I think it's about six weeks. When he graduates the little course? He's a certified mind reader."

   Mike laughed.

   "Not kidding. It's called DRE certification. Stands for a… Drug Recognition Expert. The pamphlets? Claim it's even better than a drunk-a-lyzer."

   "I guess I'm afraid to ask how that works."

   "The cop has a checklist of all these symptoms. He observes the person, and checks them off. He has a book. If he checks off certain things? That person is supposed to be on that drug, and no other. I mean, why even bother with a lab result, or a machine that sort of works. Just go straight to teaching any cop that pays for the course, to read minds and work a crystal ball."

   "You can't be serious…"

   "Look it up. Your pupils are dilated? You're slightly agitated? You, are on cocaine, mister. Pupils dilated, and you're sweating and trembling? Oh, bad move. That's molly, you're on ecstasy."

   "You know, if you spend any amount of time around addicts… you really can pick them out. Just by talking to them for a couple minutes. You'd be surprised how good some people get at it, if they run across enough of them every day."

   "My neighbor's kid. He has a pretty girlfriend. He's in love. His eyes? Look like pie plates. He giggles and acts silly. The school? Keeps demanding mandatory drug testing, because their school counselor has a DRE certification. He's supposedly on ecstasy every day. The parents are getting pissed paying for couple hundred dollar tests, that all come back negative. It's a crock of shit."

   "Okay. This idea is sound, but… it can obviously be used wrong."

   "You mean, a person with absolutely no medical or scientific background, what so ever… spends a couple hours and gets a card that certifies them to read minds? Yeah… I can't see where that plot line could go wrong. Ever. Not making fun of police officers, but… everyone knows a few local cops, that seem like it's the only decent job they can get. You're uncle's a cop in a small town or a city? Bang. You're qualified. Tell me I'm wrong, here. How does a kid that barely passed high school… magically turn into a medical expert, practically overnight."

   "Hmm."

   "What?"

   "You're done?"

   "Pretty much. Unless you wanna hear about the one case. Some DRE officer in New York City? Has been identifying people he says are definitely on heroin. These people? Blow a zero. They spend a month or two in jail, waiting on lab results. He's done it to the same woman several times. Never got a single test positive on her. I mean, it's obvious what's going on. Some cop has a problem of some kind with her, and this is how they're going about it. Now, I have no idea if it's personal, or… someone thinks she's actually into something, but…"

   Mike looked up, and saw Speedy standing there, smiling.

   "Speedy. You hearing this?"

   "Yeah."

   "What's your take on this. You're a retiring state cop."

   "Want me to lie to you? Off the record… he's right. On the record? Oh, drinking and doing drugs and driving is a huge problem, blah blah blah."

   "Can we get a DRE here? We already know the woman does cocaine."

   "You want her in a cage for a couple weeks? While you stall the lab results on the blood draw? Yeah. Easy. I don't see you getting a warrant for the house out of it, though. It gets her car impounded, that allows you to go over it with a fine tooth comb. But a house warrant? I don't see it. I mean, it might get you a warrant, but… not one that that'll stand up to an appeal. I'm not a lawyer, it's just my opinion. It's worth what you paid for it."

   "No. I agree. I'm back to picking her up, and trying to go with suspicion."

   Speedy shook his head.

   "You want my two cents on that?"

   "Sure."

   "Any regular asshole you pick up? Sure. Her? She works at a biker bar. If I know one thing about anyone that runs with bikers? They know not to say anything, and to ask for a lawyer. Really? Some of the few people that actually dummy up when you pick 'em up. A gut feeling, talking? Is thin as shit to begin with. Now… what judge wants his John Hancock on a warrant based on a person not saying anything, asking for a lawyer… equals probably cause and suspicion for a house warrant. We'd have a better chance? Claiming a psychic identified her as the perpetrator."

   "Speedy? I don't work homicide. You did. If you were in my shoes right now, what would you do?"

   "Hmm. Normally? A person has some neighbors. That can make it easier. You just crack some rounds off nearby. Neighbors call in gunfire. You respond based on that. Something like that? Can get you outside the house. One of the responding cops has a dog, the doggy barks… then… you just have to do a walk through. But that ain't gonna work here."

   "Why not?"

   "Only house, at the end of a fairly long dirt road. Not one neighbor. You could set a bomb off in her back yard, no one's calling the cops. You think she's going to call the cops? I doubt it."

   "You got any more tricks?"

   "I've gone with the old reliable health and welfare check. Someone calls in, worried. Cops have no choice if no one answers the door, but to kick it in and look around, to make sure everything's on the up and up. It's great. It's a verifiable reason for being there, and anything you find becomes admissible. I've used it. Problem… you gotta sweet talk someone into making the call. Even out this far in the sticks, I wouldn't wanna try an anonymous health and welfare check."

   "Hmm. Anything else?"

   "Then there's the old B and E routine. Old timers used to use it more. Don't see it much anymore."

   "What's the old timers breaking and entering routine?"

   "You just send someone, dressed in all black, like a cartoon burglar. Kick the door in, break windows. Doors wide open. Perpetrator? Runs off and disappears. Now… you need neighbors to call in to report the B and E. Perp ain't home, you have to clear the house to make sure the perp is gone. I did it once. Neighbors didn't give a shit. I had to send a marked car past… on rounds, naturally… to notice the open door in winter and investigate it."

   "No neighbors…"

   "Dead end dirt road. I can't picture what reason the cops would drive rounds out there, based on Panic and Rob's description of the location."

   "How about a fire."

   "Once again, works with neighbors. Works if you can arrange a marked unit just happens to drive by, and see the tiny fire on the porch. Textbook. You have to call the fire department, they have to make entry and clear every room. Problem… same as every other dirty trick I know. No neighbors, no way the locals are just going down the street making regular rounds. Privacy? Has it's benefits."

   "Speedy. You devious bastard."

   "Hey. When I get reliable information from a source? I have to try to figure out a way to get in. Unless I wanna burn my source, or in case my source ain't worth shit on the stand."

   "If this was an apartment building? We could run the gas leak scam. I'm pretty much stumped. I normally only run into this, when it's a rich person, with fences and gates and big yards and walls all around the property… or? Farm properties."

   Things went along as per usual for a camp fire ring, with perhaps one glaring difference. There was a slight damper on the drinking and hi-jinks. The overall mood was slightly subdued when compared to normal. When it was suitably late but not abusively so, Merry grabbed Panic more or less by her new human Bluetooth connection to him, and they stole away to have their little smoke session. Panic would sometimes stay up late and drink with the boys, but this wasn't one of those times. He was slightly moody and quiet, if not schmoozing friendly for Matt's benefit.

   When they came back, he ended up sitting for a little while with JG.

   "Maybe that's the thing, Junior. I'm not an agent."

   "You're still a consultant. You still wear those three letters around your neck."

   "Ha. No perks up here for it. Not like the city has. Junior?"

   "Yeah…"

   "What rules am I really bound by? I'm a PFC…"

   "Huh?"

   "Proud fucking civilian. What rules do I have to follow?"

   "What. Same rules as any other civilians. They're called laws."

   "No. I mean, rules for investigation. If push comes to shove… I march right into any police station, and demand that I want to swear a warrant out."

   "Only cops swear out warrants…"

   "Only because over time, they're the only ones who routinely do it. It's a little known legal fact, that if you take a lawyer with you, and push the issue? The police have to take your warrant and act on it. Now… they'll do it once. If you're right? You're a hero… if you're wrong or the perp was wise? You're fucked, and you catch legal hell for it. I can just show them the video. What could they do?"

   "Well… they might have to go check it out halfhearted, but they might put all of their heart, into charging you. B and E… trespass… criminal trespass. Might as well add disturbing the peace and disorderly conduct."

   "If it gets the job done? What… I take a vacation in county for a couple months. Six months tops. I demand my 180 day rule, and demand my jury trial. What jury will convict me, when the best evidence, is also perfect proof that I proved I caught the person that tried to murder my girl. They have to let at least one woman on that jury, and no woman would convict me once they saw the video. What man would convict me? I didn't take the law into my own hands and go get violent, I got smart about it."

   "Okay. Maybe they don't use the video. It gets excluded somehow."

   "On what grounds? What rules am I bound by, as a civilian? It's proof of my guilt on minor charges. I further claim self defense, for my loved one. You technically aren't supposed to be charged with any crime, in the commission of pure self defense. The state is bound by all those rules of engagement. What judge would even give me anything but the minimum sentences, if you could even find a jury that would convict."

   "Do you really wanna be cooling your heels in county for six months? You'll miss your big case. You'll lose your Consultancy. You'll lose your gun shop."

   "Let's call that… plan B."

   "You probably like it better than plan C."

   What's plan C? See, I just know I'm gonna regret asking that."

   "Walk right up on her, in broad daylight, right in front of civilians and even cops in uniform? Bang. Unload the gun and politely go into custody without a whimper. Demand my 180 day rule jury trial. Show the video and copies of the lab tests I know exist. I can't let the person that tried to murder my girl, get away with what I know is murder, because of a technicality. I'm afraid she might try again? And she might succeed next time."

   "I liked plan B, better."

   "Technically, you didn't like either one of them. But… am I bound by the same rules of engagement as the state is? I'm a civilian. I don't know any better. Cops and private investigators on TV? Break in and solve crimes all the time… so I did. My lawyer? Hammers intent home. Intent? Is a huge component of any crime."

   "Are you drunk?"

   "Honestly? No. I'm just coming up with my back up plans, if all else fails. Everything on Elvis? Is in motion now. That ship? Is headed straight for port with the engine cut off, regardless. More than enough momentum to carry it over the finish line."

   "Did you really think this through?"

   "Junior? I'm not a big poker player, but… good analogy. I had a life before all of… this happened. I think my life is getting better, and I think it's going to get better. It's like I sat down to play poker with next to nothing, and caught a few big hands and I got something to play with now."

   "Okay. Why throw winnings away?"

   "What. Some money? Some… status of some kind? None of that means shit to me. Trade all those… winnings in, to make sure I get the girl that tried to kill my girl. When I'm out of county in six months? I walk out, and I can go and claim the life I had before all this. Easily. I can go to any small town, and have what I had. Besides… no one can take Merry off of me. See, you think in terms of… career. House. Money. Car. Maybe… status at work. I don't. To me? That's all just some silly game we all play. I play it a little bit, just because I have to, but… it means about as much to me? As playing Candy-town with a little kid. When people get all… excited about all that bullshit? I honestly feel like when you let a little kid win Candy-town, and they get all hyped up. Whatever. Have fun."

   "You have a timetable on all this?"

   "Very loose time table. If I go and do it right now, tomorrow morning. My odds the sample is where I say it is? Very, very high. I like my odds. Every day I wait? My… odds go down. Very slightly? But… they go down. Also? If she gets away with it? I know inside my heart, and you do too… she'll try something like that again one day."

   "You shared this with anyone else yet?"

   "No."

   "Well… for now? I'll just pretend you were drunk and blowing off steam."

   "Yeah, even though you know I'm not drunk."

   JG sighed.

   "There just has to be another way. We got a lot of brains working on a warrant. Someone, ought to come up with something."

   "You hunt, JG?"

   "Went a few times. Not my main thing."

   "You play any sports?"

   "Some. Wasn't a football jock though, like most of the guys…"

   "Pulling the trigger. Hunting? The shot ain't perfect. You wait. You're patient, but… at some point, if it doesn't look like the shot's gonna happen? Now… the animal's moving further away, the shot's getting worse, and next thing you know? You're now faced with no shot, and you watched it walk away… or, worse yet, you now have an even worse shot than when you started. You wait too long, for perfect? You end up in a worse place."

   "Yeah. Sounds like shooting the basketball. Guys at work? Play basketball once a week. I know what you mean. You gotta pull the trigger even when the shot ain't perfect. And if you hesitate? Another guy covers you and you lose the ball."

   "See? You understand perfectly."

   "Yeah… but. I place value on my career and all that Candy-town shit. No offense to you, that's your business."

   "No. I understand."

   "Hey Panic."

   "Yeah."

   "You, uh… you're not drunk. We established that."

   "And? You want me to get drunk, so you can take advantage of me. Look, you gotta go through Little Robbie for that. I'm spoken for."

   JG smiled.

   "Honestly? I wouldn't necessarily wanna tangle with Merry over it, to tell you the truth. No… I, uh…"

   "What?"

   "Panic. I was a gamer kid. I went to college for audio video production. Me and the techs in the basement at the Hoover building? You act like we don't still play Star-field all night on the weekend sometimes."

   "Okay… what are you saying?"

   JG rolled his eyes.

   "Well. Senior's not acting up, everyone's quiet tonight, but… he's half in the bag, it's his thing. I was thinking… the next walk you take? Maybe you could take me, instead of Merry."

   "Oh… that."

   JG looked around, no one was listening in or near them at the moment.

   "Yeah. That."

   "You… ain't worried about…"

   JG laughed.

   "No, I'm not. I hardly ever anymore. I'm an adult now. I've been there years, and I got hit with a pisser once right after I graduated. Never since. I'll be fine, even if it happened… which it won't."

   "Hmm. We gonna take Senior with us?"

   "Uh… no. Let the boomer get bombed."

   "How about Mike? He seems pretty cool…"

   "Oh, you're a god damn comedian tonight, ain't you?"

   "That's pretty much every night. Sure. Hold on. Let me Bluetooth Merry…"

   "What?"

   "Inside joke. Rob says we can communicate by Bluetooth connection. Looking at each other."

   "Oh. That's cute."

   "It is…"

   Panic caught Merry's eye, and scratched his finger upside down on the sly. The universal come here signal. Merry cocked her head, smiled, and waited for a break in her conversation. She barely glanced over at Panic on her way over to get another soft drink. Smiled.

   "Come on…"

   Merry ambled up and around one side of the bunkhouse, and JG and Panic went the other way. No one seemed to notice. They all met behind the main bunkhouse. Panic whispered in Merry's ear, and she cocked her head at JG.

   "I was a gamer kid, before I was a glow-nigger. Have a heart."

   Merry smiled and led them out a little path to an intersection of little game trails that crisscrossed all the woods on this end of the property. She held up the pipe in one hand, and papers in the other.

   Panic took the pipe and packed it, and told Merry to roll one up. She went about it, while JG and Panic giggled over JG coughing, looking for all the world like two high school kids out behind dad's garage, sneaking. By the time Merry had a decent sized cannon rolled up, JG was protesting. They teased him until he started hitting the big hand-rolled cigarette with them.

   "Jesus Christ…"

   Panic giggled.

   "Yes, my son?"

   "I run across this, like, once or twice a year? Fuck…"

   "So?"

   "I'm already dizzy…"

   Merry giggled.

   "Yeah. And it's creeper weed. If you're dizzy now? Just wait…"

   "Oh, Christ… is this gonna go to my head? Or… is it… you know… body rock bud…"

   They stood around now, like three high school kids, talking about it. Panic wanted to know what kind of smoker JG was.

   "What do you mean?"

   "Uh, some people like to sit there, and zone out. Drool through cartoons. Some people? Only like a strong head high. Laugh and carry on. Me… I guess I'm a creativity smoker. I'll be up all night if I don't have anything else to do, studying infrared lasers and shit. So, which one are you?"

   "Hmm. I'm both, I guess. I want a good head high, and I wanna laugh and carry on some. But… I wanna sit there and relax, too. You know… gamer weed. I want enough body that I wanna sit there and play for hours, but… I want enough head that I'm having fun."

   "Junior. I play Star-field too. I wouldn't say it helps my game out or anything, just makes it more fun."

   "Oh. A real gamer? Your hands have to be automatic."

   "Star-field? Keyboard controls…"

   "Same thing. You have to get onto autopilot. Zoned out, not thinking. Everything? Automatic responses. Then? You can zen with the game."

   "Okay. Now… do you do a rally? Or… you try to control every group you send in… you go air, or ground…"

   "I always go air. I only use enough ground, to keep them on the ground. Now… I control a group here, a group there. Keep them thinking I'm gonna nickel and dime them, and they're getting up on top of me, but… when I finally go? You have to have a rally point. I got everything coming in at once, from all corners of the map I can get anything at all going on under radar. When I finally come in? You know it… I'm talking like the Bells of St. Mary ringing…"

   Merry giggled.

   "Saint Merry?"

   Junior and Panic had to stifle their belly laughs with their hands over their mouths. Merry did too, and held her finger up. Please stop. It hurts.

   "Merry? You wanna hit him with the shotgun? Do it right…"

   Merry giggled and shrugged, nodded.

   "What…"

   Panic threw his arms around JG from behind, pinning them temporarily. Merry grabbed his face with both of her strong hands and drew him in. JG laughed and struggled, but… when he figured out she wasn't going to kiss him, he stopped struggling. She blew the gigantic hit into his lungs with a decent seal on his mouth. When she let him go, Panic released him, chuckling, and they watched JG trying not to cough up a lung.

   "Oh… fuck… two on one. Not fair, guys… oh. Shit…"

   Merry smiled.

   "Saint Merry. Strikes again."

   "Oh god… I'm gonna act like a retard…"

   Panic chuckled.

   "Ah. Everyone's drinking. Just sit with us, and try to keep your mouth shut. You'll be fine."

   JG started laughing softly.

   "Hey, I got one."

   "What?"

   "Time… is moving really, really slowly!"

   Merry didn't get it, Panic said it was a meme from the old days on their web site.

   JG didn't want to go back immediately, and they stood there small talking. Panic and Merry had follow up cigarettes, and talked Junior into one. He giggled, like a little kid sneaking a cigarette when he knows he's not allowed. In the course of idle conversation, JG thought out loud, hitting his cigarette like a little kid obviously not used to smoking very often, the kind of smoker that only had a butt when drinking or whatnot.

   "Man… this would all be a whole lot easier, if we had some surveillance on that little bitch, you know?"

   "Tell me about it."

   "Fuck… pity she didn't pop up on the goddamn cameras. Put the goddamn perp, on scene, with time and date stamp. Fucking bang, you know? That's why I like being the terror that flaps in the night… I smoke their ass right on video, there ain't no getting out of it. All the jocks? Oh, we gotta run around with our guns and our badges, we have to have a slick interview… fuck that shit. Show the DA a movie, show the jury a movie. Ass fuck 'em with no lube. Before I was an agent? I was a tech. Ask any of the techs I still hang out with… that's how J-dog rolls, motherfucker. Flap flap…"

   Merry had a concerned look on her face.

   "Honey? Are you all right? You look funny…"

   "Yeah, yeah… JG?"

   "Yeah…"

   "Can I ask a stupid question?"

   "Only stupid question, is the one you didn't ask, that you should have. What you need, P-dog."

   Merry giggled, and repeated "P-dog", it struck her as funny. Panic ignored her.

   "Junior. What makes you ask about the surveillance?"

   "What, you been smoking that shit all day? The whole main trail is wired up. You should know, we spent two days doing it, you know."

   "Okay. I just forgot about that, until now."

   "What do you mean? I figured you checked the video, and didn't see anything."

   "Well… you took the laptop when you left…"

   "Yeah. I like you, but, I'm not giving you my laptop, dude… I get a better one than most agents get. You know. Perk from being the tech agent."

   "JG?"

   "Yeah…"

   "I don't get any video, if I didn't reprogram all the cams with my laptop's MAC address, and install the software, right? I mean, I fucked up big time there. I honestly forgot about the cams being up. Hell, once the laptop disappeared, I figured you took your toys back, test weekend was over. Come to think about it? They really are blending in pretty good. I put the fucking things up, and I forgot they're there."

   "Well. If you didn't put your laptop's MAC address into each cam? Install the software on your laptop? How the hell do you think you'd get video that way…"

   "So… I had my chance, and I royally fucked up, right?"

   "Well… there's like, five slots for destination. We had my laptop's IP address I was using, and my laptop's MAC address, as the main destination."

   "What happened when I fucked that up, and forgot about the cams? I lost everything I could have had, right? Fuck me sideways."

   "Well, wait. On board memory and SD cards if present, wasn't that slot two? We tested that…"

   "Yeah…"

   "Okay. They filled up the SD cards then."

   "You… think I might have caught anything on the SD cards?"

   "Uh… no. Every car, every person walking through… that triggered them and that's really high def. They filled up, I'd bet. Every time the wind blew, except for the ones on the infrared triggers. Plus? We cascaded them, remember? That was the other menu…"

   "JG… I remember you called the data department. You had them turn the server on. For that test."

   "Yeah. That worked fine."

   "So… when the test was over, you had the server shut down, right?"

   JG suddenly had the same face Panic had.

   "Where's my fucking phone! Chair…"

   JG and Panic sprinted back around the bunkhouse, and positively tore through the camp and got JG's phone. JG was as excited as Panic was, and Merry found herself still standing out behind the bunkhouse, wondering what the hell even happened. Other than both of them were stoned and acting like retards. She came walking out, and called to Panic. Who promptly ignored her.

   "My laptop!"

   "Go! Go! Go!…"

   Everyone was now like Merry. Watching them run around like retards. JG stopped and looked confused. He yelled at Panic to grab soft drinks. He ran over and grabbed two cold cans out the ice chest holding them, and they about ran into each other as JG went on a mad hunt, swearing and yelling for his phone."

   "I got the phone!"

   "I got your fucking pop!"

   "Laptop! Fucking flap, you goddamn gamer!"

   "Car…"

   They sprinted off to JG's car he came in. He forgot his car keys, and he sprinted back through camp, and now swore and yelled looking for the car keys. Senior, drunk as he was, was watching like everyone else at the proceedings. Chuckling, pointing, laughing. JG ran right up to Senior, sitting with half closed eyes and was amazed as all holy hell, when JG grabbed him by the FBI sweatshirt he was wearing, and all but yanked him up out of his camp chair. Senior just held up the car keys to the federal interceptor cruiser they had checked out of the motor pool, for their little working vacation Mike had signed for the trip.

   He grabbed the keys, ignored Senior's muttering, and released him to fall back into his camp chair. With a highly confused yet amused look on his face. Mike looked at Senior for an answer, and Senior shrugged back at him. They came running back, now with the laptop and made a beeline for the bunkhouse. That was where JG had previously commandeered a reloading table for his laptop, working on cameras, and everything else.

   Merry stood in front of the door, and put her palm on Panic's chest.

   "What?!?!"

   "The little girl is sleeping in there."

   JG and Panic looked at each other, still highly excited and looking to be about uncontrollable.

   "My cabin…"

   "Go…"

   They grabbed an armload of soft drinks, and sprinted back to the cruiser. Everyone heard it fire up, rev, spit tire and go bouncing down the trail. Until the engine started everyone could hear them yelling at each other.

   Speedy just looked at Mike.

   "What the fuck…"

   "I have no idea."

   JG got his laptop onto Panic's computer desk in the cabin, and sat down. He got his phone out, and went through contacts until he found what he needed.

   "Yeah. Hi. Let me guess… Friday night, you guys are having a LAN party."

   "Stuff it, this is J-dog. If I was home? I'd be there with you. Jerry there?"

   "Good. Put him on."

   "What? This is a fucking emergency. Don't put Jerry on now, put him on right now! I'm not kidding. Move."

   "Jerry? Yeah. This is J. Huh? Fuck the game! This is goddamn important! All right?"

   "Listen. Do you remember that… dedicated video server you set up for me to test? Yeah. It's the only dedicated server, I think. Listen! Go see, if the power is still on."

   "Because I need to know. Move."

   "Everything? Never got shut off for anything?"

   "Oh, good. No! Don't shut it off, I need it on. You think my MAC address still accesses it?"

   "You just left everything on for weeks?"

   "No. I know you don't pay the power bill, Jerry. Thanks. I might call you back. Stick by the phone."

   "What do you mean why. How many agents you know, that used to be a tech down there? I put you guys on the map, right? Just do it. This is fucking important, trust me. How many of you guys are there right now?"

   "Good. I might call back. I might need you guys to go through video files for me. Make me look good, guys. Come on. I need you!"

   "Yes. I promise. When I get back…"

   Junior hung up, flashing a grin.

   "What?"

   "Oh. I'm interrupting Friday night gaming, after hours. If I get them to help me, if I need it? And I think I probably will… I owe them beer. Pizza. For ruining game night."

   "You think everything's on the server?"

   "The SD cards filled up quick. They're just the tiny ones that come free with the cameras. Once they filled up… everything should have kicked up onto my laptop. Which was gone. After that? Theoretically, everything should have gone straight to our own little dedicated server I told you about. That's the good news."

   "What's the bad news?"

   "If it's there? We got shit-loads of little videos to go through. That's what I'm gonna get them to help with. Needle in a haystack. It'll take all night, if we don't get help."

   "Can I use my laptop?"

   "No. Just mine. Everybody and their uncle can't access the server."

   "I thought you had crowd security…"

   "That's just if someone finds the IP address. You can't download videos back down, without the right sign in shit."

   "Get started…"

   "Yeah… yeah… okay. We're good. I'm checking the logs… see what we got…"

   "Ooh."

   "What?"

   "I got a couple, several gigs. I've got… holy shit. There's thousands of videos here. Like I said. Needle in a haystack."

   "Get started!"

   "Hold on. We work smarter, not harder. We're not goddamn football players… what date would you think this happened on?"

   Panic related the date and time Merry went to the hospital.

   "Okay. So, before that… that, eliminates everything… after… here. Now, how far do I go back?"

   "No telling how long it laid around, until it happened."

   "So… that's my ending video, about there… we start there, and work back."

   "How do you know which is which? Is that a hash code?"

   "No. See… that's the camera ID. Well, the slot number. Not the handle you give the camera. Those digits… are the date, right there's the time…"

   "What are all the T's and TC's?"

   "Oh. T… is triggered. By infrared. That, is which trigger slot kicked it. TC… that's a trigger started it, and a cascade to the next camera happened."

   "What's the dash for on some of them?"

   "Oh. No dash, is direction 1. Dash is direction -1."

   "Huh?"

   "Cams are in a line. 1 is going out of camp, that direction. Negative 1 is coming in."

   "Okay, good. Eliminate anything not a negative. We just gotta find one, then we can get the rest around it, easy."

   "No. Can't you… click them off? Its just file names, J."

   "Okay… yeah. Okay. We got a end time and date, we work back… we want only negatives… oh fuck this, there's thousands of 'em… I'm just gonna filter by name…"

   "Oh… below this date… time?"

   "Start on night time only. That's how I'd come in, in the middle of the night."

   Okay. Below date numbers filter. Negative only, filter number two. Third filter… before morning… fourth filter… after dark…"

   The next hour was frustrating.

   "What's that?"

   "Eh. Another deer…"

   "The fuck is that?"

   "I don't know. Looks like a goddamn bear in the underbrush, off the road…"

   "Fuck Bigfoot… keep going…"

   "No. Short female. That's little Robbie, that's Skykid. The cook…"

   "There's your car again…"

   JG's phone buzzed.

   "One of the guys in the lab… he wants to know if two females is any good."

   "Probably not. I only got one perp…"

   "Hold on. He texted me a file number…"

   JG slowly and carefully typed in the number, then gave up and cut and pasted it. It brought it right up.

   "Nothing…"

   "Let it run…"

   They opened cold cans of soft drinks, and took turns studying the blank video."

   "Okay. What's that?"

   "That… looks like it could be… her. That's her back…"

   "Then who's that?"

   "I don't know… start spot checking the videos around it."

   "Okay. I filter only that night…"

   "Nah. It's only their backs… fuck…"

   "Oh. I'll shut off the filter for direction. We'll get her coming back out, unless she cut through the woods."

   That worked. They located a video, that let Panic see the bar skank. He could clearly make out her face, and the girl standing with her. They stood there, talking, and lit cigarettes. Laughing.

   "Looks happy. That her?"

   "Yeah… that's her…"

   "What's that get up?"

   "Oh. That's her goddamn witch robe in the closet. Fucking twat wore it out here."

   "Okay. Then who… is that? Most people don't take friends on a murder, do they?"

   Panic smiled.

   "That? Oh. Merry's gonna shit."

   "Why?"

   "That? Is the donut slut."

   "Huh?"

   "Long story. When this started out? That, was the other suspect."

   "Not very big, are they? I mean, I eat too much cheese, I pass turds bigger than these girls. They look like little kids."

   "Yeah. Make all these easy to find?"

   "I just copy them over to another folder. We can go through them and see if there's any better ones, but… this is good, right?"

   "Oh. It's academy award time, JG. Night at the fucking Oscars."

   "Well? Let's go show Mike and everybody else…"

   "Oh yeah."

   They went back and parked and got out by the main camp. Senior and Mike and both IA guys were huddled up. Having a beer, talking.

   "Well. You boys get all that piss and vinegar out of you? Where you been, JG. We missed you. Had to get my own beers and everything."

   "Yeah. About that, Senior. I was thinking. Does the guy that gets the warrant, for Merry… that guy, now, he gets his beers brought to him. Right?"

   "Junior. You come up with a valid warrant? Yeah. I'll get you beer and your snacks all weekend. I'll even take you out to rib joint alpha, when we get back."

   "Panic? Show it…"

   "Read 'em and weep, boys…"

   Speedy had wandered over.

   "What you got?"

   "I'm no legal expert, but… looks to me like enough to pick the perps up and get a house warrant. JG? Your show. Go on and flap."

   JG showed them the video still he had screen saved from the best video.

   "Where's this at?"

   Panic and JG both pointed up the main trail.

   JG explained how they left the cameras from the test up, and forgot about them for the time being. Went through a short explanation about how it ended up on the server that never got shut down after the initial IP test for the cameras.

   "Mike? If that's her, this puts her out here."

   "How accurate is the day and time?"

   "Mike? This isn't from the cameras out here. I mean, it is, but… I got this from the server back at home basement. It's all in the logs. Date, time, year… down to the hundredth of a second."

   "What's that date and time work out to…"

   JG beamed.

   "Panic tells me, that's just about 24 hours before… Merry gets rushed to the hospital. Is that close enough for you?"

   "She's wearing the robe. I don't believe it…"

   "Oh. The romance novels? Are going to get entered into evidence too. I can see the headlines now. Dipshit witch, reads romance novel, gets murder plot from romance novel."

   "Yeah. That'll keep the jury from falling asleep…"

   Mike sat there, tapping his finger against the bottle of his beer he was nursing. He arrived at some kind of decision. He got his phone out. Searched, poked at his screen.

   "Christ, I hate to bug the poor guy this late… it's almost 1am…"

   "Yeah. Hi. You awake?"

   "All right. Sorry. Want me to give you a few seconds?"

   "This is Mike. I'm sorry to call you this late, I apologize. Yeah… Mike from the mess up behind the bar. Huh? No… I'm not in DC. I'm up here. What? No, no… nothing like that. I swear. No multiple homicides this time. I just… you a little bit awake now? I'm sorry."

   "Remember the girl at the bar? The witness… yeah… well, someone took a run at her again."

   "No. No more crazy city shit this time. This one? Homegrown, good old fashioned style. I honestly don't see a big deal for you to wrap this one up… what? No… this happened in your sandbox. No one drove up from DC on this one."

   "Yeah. A local out here. Female. Has a female accomplice. What? No… I promised you, no homicide. This? Was a good old fashioned attempted homicide. Poison."

   "Aw, hell no, don't come out tonight. I was thinking Monday morning… well, if you want to get out here at first light? That'll work too. What? I got everything. I got the perp on site. I already got a full lab workup on the poison and the method. When you get here? I'll fill you in on where we get a matching poison sample."

   "Huh? Well… that's where you come in. No one crossed state lines this time. I need you to get a warrant. You're in charge this time. What? Aw, you don't have to get here that early. All right. See you then. What? Hell yeah, I'm buying breakfast. Lunch too. You got a weekend judge, right? Yeah, I figured. No, no… I'm telling you… this one? No criminal masterminds involved. It's about a gimme. Okay. Sorry to wake you up late. I just can't risk that sample going bye bye. All right, see you tomorrow morning. Get some sleep."

   "And? That's that. If he likes what he sees, and I'm sure he will… he can get a warrant here on the chief's fax. Run it by him for breakfast. Probably go scoop 'em up and all go have lunch."

   Merry wandered over. Panic showed her the video still. She all but gritted her teeth and her eyes were unbridled venom. No one could or would would try to blame her.

   "Both of em? Glad you guys are handling it. Cause I'm running out of options everyone else can live with."

   "Just for the record, um… actually just for off the record… can we go over, lightly… exactly what went on with these two?"

   Merry sighed and puffed her forehead hair up with her lower lip's exhale, a tic she sometimes pulled when she was mildly or more irked.

   "The one on the left. The one that's not in a fucking Halloween costume? That's the donut whore. She insisted on damn near giving my boyfriend everything but a lap dance every time we went in to have coffee and donuts with the chief. I put up with it a bunch of times, before I started giving her the eye for it. She gives me this shit eating grin and keeps doing it. I started making little jokes about it? She does it more. I finally just told her, politely, I was getting pissed. She gave me shit. I finally went and had a polite talk in the little girls room with her. She started that shit where she's running her mouth, daring me to do anything about it. So yeah… I laid her ass out. Then? I went back to being nice."

   "Define… laid her out. Off the record."

   "Mike. I went in the little girls room, and told her I'd about had it. She laughed and dared me to do it, so… I gave her a goose egg on her forehead the size of a golf ball. I bet she got another one from her head hitting the tile floor. I don't pull hair like a girl. And yeah… I closed her eye for her. After that? I went back to being nice. Being nice magically started working."

   "No trip to the hospital?"

   "No. Free eye shadow for a week or two. Boo hoo."

   "Okay. Witnesses to her constantly… antagonizing you?"

   "Panic was there every time. That's what it was over. The Chief even mentioned to her to knock it off, that I was getting pissed. She didn't listen to his advice either, I guess."

   "Okay. Adult version of grade-school bullshit. I got the picture. And the other one?"

   "She works at the biker bar. Me, Panic, Rob and Skykid stopped coming home from dinner and a movie night out? To have a pitcher of beer right before we get home. She tried to throw us out, motherfucking and threatening me like a crazy bitch off her medication. She thought she was going to get all the bikers to throw us out. I went in the back and got the guy with some rank in the place, and showed him my… let's call it my club identification and leave it at that. He told her to shut up, she kept running off at the mouth and going off the rails. That pissed the ranking member off, so, he tuned her up and shut her up. That was the end of that."

   "Define… tuned her up."

   "You know how when a little kid keeps giving you lip and challenging you? You have to scarf them up, and shake them around and yell at them? That's what he had to do to calm her down. Club rules? I had every right to yank her over the bar and smack her around myself… I was being nice by not doing it. I never been there before, I was trying to put my best foot forward. I let them handle it whatever way they like to handle it. Next time I saw her? She was all polite. If I had to guess? Someone smacked her upside the head in private for acting like that."

   "That was it?"

   "Never another issue."

   "Until…"

   "Well, yeah. Until that went down."

   "Then, with no further issues, out of you, or either of them… the next thing was nothing… nothing… then the murder attempt."

   "Yep."

   "All right. I'm getting up at the ass crack of dawn, meet PA Homicide. I dealt with him before, I like him. Who's with me?"

   Both IA's raised their hands. So did Speedy, Panic, and Matt as well as Senior and JG.

   "Senior? You're welcome to come, but… none of us had any way to predict this would break this late tonight. I don't hold it against you, if you'd rather sleep in. She's my witness, she's my case. Both IA's are in the same boat, she's their witness too. Panic? I need you, you're directly involved with this now. Merry? Homicide can speak to you here, I don't want you going into town until we get this resolved. Matt? I'd rather you volunteered to come, but, you don't have to. Your report speaks for itself."

   No one wanted to miss it, even Senior. Everyone figured they should get a couple hours sleep, then they could sleep tomorrow night to catch up. Everyone split up and started heading to bed. Panic and Merry offered Matt and his girl and their kid to stay in their cabin, volunteering their extra two air mattresses. The parents decided to sleep in the bunkhouse, since the kid was already asleep there.