Disclaimer: The characters and concepts of Hardcastle & McCormick do not belong to me, but to their creators. This is for entertainment purposes only.

This was fun to write. I hope you enjoy it! Read and review, please!

Feedback: Comments welcome at co_fire_fighter@yahoo.com

The gate house is dark. The only sounds besides McCormick gently snoring is the sound of the ticking double belled alarm clock on the night stand that reads 2:30am. Then, the sound of the ringing phone. Ring one, McCormick tucks the covers tighter; ring two, he pulls the pillow over his head; ring three, he pushes the pillow off his head, attempts to focus on the clock; and ring four reaches for the receiver answering with a sleepy voice, "Hello?"

The sound on the other end says, "You have a call from the County jail. If you'd like to accept press 1 after the name of the caller is given. 'Teddy, Skid its Teddy answer.' " Teddy's recorded voice says desperately.

Mark focuses on the numbers on the phone and presses the 1, "Teddy?"

"Yeah, it's me. Teddy Smith. Listen the arraignment is day after tomorrow, but I need to see you alone first thing in the morning. Skid this is important." Teddy said in a very urgent tone.

McCormick took notice of the name change, but didn't miss a beat. He knew the phone conversations were randomly monitor at County. "Ok, I'll be there. What's the beef this time?"

Teddy replied, "Trespassing after hours."

They both knew it as small potatoes unless it was discovered that Teddy was on parole. McCormick also knew what he'd be risking by signing in to see Teddy at County. It would violate his own parole if anyone recognized him.

The recording came on, "Your call will disconnect in one minute."

Teddy questioned, "Skid?"

"I'll be there." McCormick said as the phone disconnected. Mark got out of the bed and without turning on the light began fumbling through the desk drawer. He dug and dug until somewhere in the back he felt what he hoped was what he was looking for. Pulling it out in to the light from the outside, Mark saw the fake ID that he had used in a couple of Hardcastle's cases. He put it in the night stand drawer with his wallet and keys, but out of sight, just in case Sarah or Hardcastle should happen by before he got a chance to leave in the morning. Mark knew there was no way he could go back to sleep, at least right now. He began to find what he intended to wear the next day while locating an old wallet for the fake ID.

McCormick was setting on the couch where he had been weighing the options of talking to Hardcastle about Teddy. He knew he'd feel guilty about it later but what was the big deal he was only going to see Teddy for twenty minutes through glass, find out what was up and talk to a bondsman to get Teddy out before they figured he was on parole. Which he knew Hardcase would see as associating with a convicted felon which would blow his own parole to hell and back if Hardcase wanted to push it. So in the hours between Teddy's call and the early morning light when he heard Hardcastle at the basketball goal shooting his morning baskets, McCormick had decided what he was doing was nothing and didn't need to trouble the Judge. He got up, pulled on sweats over his gym shorts, grabbed his tennis shoes and after ample time went to the court grumbling as usual about being woke up so early. McCormick even knew he was a little off this morning after the Judge beat him two out of three games as they headed to the patio for breakfast.

Hardcastle felt like there was something going on with the kid but said, "You're a little off your game today aren't you?"

"It comes from being woke up in the middle of the night to play ball, Judge." McCormick grumbled.

Hardcastle just smiled a bit. "So, you going get to those flower beds today?"

"Yeah, I was planning to do them today, but I need to use the truck to go get some of that fertilizer you wanted put in them. There's not nearly enough in the shed and I don't want to just get started and have to quit, so I might as well get it before I start." Mark reasoned.

Hardcastle looked over his paper, "Just don't find something better to do while you're gone."

It looked like it was going to work. McCormick stood up cleared the table, "Right. I'll shouldn't be long." but added for safe measure as he turned, "I hope they aren't crowded. You know how slow they are at that hardware store you like."

With the fake ID in the wallet in his pocket and his real ID and wallet in the glove box of the truck, McCormick pulled into the busy hardware store. He parked the truck where it could be seen if Hardcastle drove by but where it wouldn't be noticed by the store clerks as odd. He got out of the truck and walked to the bus stop across the street. In a few minutes McCormick was on his way downtown to the County jail. Once there he signed it to see 'Teddy Smith' using the name Nelson McGuire. He hoped the work clothes, hat and sunglasses would keep anyone of Hardcastle's friends and anyone who might spot him from recognizing him. He appeared to read a magazine, carefully keeping it in front of his face until called to talk to Teddy. Once in the booth Mark picked up the receiver. "Ok, I'm here." he said urgently.

Teddy on the other side of the glass said into the phone very quietly, "Thanks for coming. You got to help me."

"If Trespassing is the only beef I should be able to get a bondsman. not a problem." Mark said.

"It is, if my luck holds out but we both know how our luck can be." Teddy said.

"Now, is not the time to remind me!" Mark insisted.

"Listen, I'm in a jam. This guy who knew about my past tricks came to me said he needed a 'favor' and would pay me good or he'd put me in the middle of a world of shit. I tried to 'help' and screwed it up. I need you. Man, you were always better at this kind of 'stuff' than me." Teddy explained carefully. He and Mark knew that the visitation phone weren't monitored but that even with all the noise you still had to watch what you said.

"Who's the guy? We can get him." Mark suggested.

Teddy replied, "I don't know. He found me. Said he'd get back up with me."

Mark wasn't liking what he was hearing, "First, let's get you out of here, then, ..."

"But, its got to happen tonight." Teddy said impatiently.

"I'm listening." Mark sighed. He suddenly had a headache.

Teddy began, "Go to my 'apartment' at 10327 Frederick Street. 'Apartment 312'. I have a folder marked 'McClure Inc.' My bills are all in there and the money for the bondsman."

Mark knew the last sentence was to make the other information seem normal. He repeated, "Got it. 10327 Frederick Street. 'Apartment 312'. Folder marked 'McClure Inc.' "

The guard tapped Teddy on the shoulder ending the visitation. "Thanks, for everything." he said to Mark before hanging up the phone.

Mark gave Teddy a nod as he was taken back to the cells.

On the bus back to the hardware store Mark scribbled the information down and tucked it into the fake wallet. At the hardware store it did take more time than Mark wanted. Once he had insisted on the brand of fertilizer he had to argue that he didn't care if what was up front was on sell that he wanted the other brand. Then, after paying for the fertilizer, he was ready to head back to the estate when he saw they had put the wrong type of fertilizer in the truck. All 100 bags would have to be unloaded and reloaded with the correct type. The clerk had made numerous apologies and even gave him a sizable discount. McCormick hoped this would be enough if the Judge asked, to buy him the time he needed. He pulled out of the hardware store and headed toward Frederick Street. 10327 proved to not be an apartment building which was no surprise to McCormick. What did surprise him was that he knew the building a block away. The building was surrounded by a sixteen foot chain link fence topped with barbed wire. It was used to store Federal aviation records. He knew this from a case he'd worked on with Hardcastle about a year ago. Having been in the building during 'business hours' once, would at least give Mark a small advantage. He continued driving down the street and turned for home.

After finishing the flower beds, McCormick made a big deal about washing and waxing the cars. First the Vette which he parked back in the garage after he was finished. Hardcastle came out to see when he'd be ready for dinner. Mark grumbled about the sun and having no shade to wax the cars. He fussed that he had to take the Vette half way down the driveway to wax it and now was about to do the same to the Coyote.

Hardcastle asked, "Why don't you do it in the garage?"

"Because, with those small lights I can't see. Maybe if you'd let me put in a couple bigger ones I could use the garage." Mark argued. It was an old argument which he hadn't won yet, but it could work for him. "I'll be done with the Coyote in about an hour." He hopped in and moved the car to the one shady spot half way down the drive. He put the finishing touches on the Coyote, gathered his things, and walked back to the garage leaving the Coyote out of sight from the main house. All day McCormick had thought about letting Hardcastle in on all this but he knew with Teddy and him being on parole that Hardcastle would not be happy. He knew he wouldn't understand about his visit to the jail and he had only intended to see what was up. He had no idea when he had first decided to visit Teddy that he'd end up in something like this. Now, he felt he was in too deep to try to explain to Hardcastle. He tried to convince himself -- A midnight drive, jump a fence, dodge an alarm, pick up a file, give a bondsman a few dollars to bond Teddy out, then maybe they could bring the Judge in to help nab the guy who threatened Teddy. It would be no big deal -- unless he got caught.

After dinner, the usual John Wayne movie and a round of guerrilla basketball, Mark went to the gatehouse about midnight. He showered and attempted to make the house look as normal as possible while he waited for Hardcastle to get settled in for the night. Mark checked the clock for the hundredth time. It was 2:30 am. He knew if he was going to do this that he'd better get going. He sighed as he took one last look around the gatehouse. If this went badly, no amount of explaining would get him out of this. He left a note to tell Hardcase that he had an errand to run and would be back about in the afternoon. Dressed in all black, he picked up his black bag of 'tricks' and shut the door behind him. Once in the Coyote he put it in Neutral and let it drift as far down the drive as it would before starting the engine. So far this part of his plan had, he hoped, went as planned.

He parked about a half a block away from the back of the building and walked down the street as if he were out on a casual evening stroll even though he figured there were few who strolled this neighborhood in the evenings, especially dressed in black and carrying a bag of burglar tools. He stopped by the fence and took in the area for a moment. All was quiet. He slipped a blanket out of the bag, tossed it over his shoulder, checked his pocket of snacks for the dogs he knew would be in the lot, and began to climb the fence. At the top he tossed the non-descript wool blanket over the barbed wire, climbed over very quietly, but once his feet hit the ground he heard the distinct sound of doggie feet on pavement. He dug out the peanut butter sandwiches and bites of raw steak with his right hand and while holding them in the left hand he threw them with his right hand. One young eager pup was more interested in the gloved man than he was the steak. While Mark threw the last sandwich with his right hand the pup jumped for his throat. Mark instinctively threw up his left arm while kicking with his right foot. The next moment was a whirlwind of adrenaline, pain, anger, and the desire to be anywhere but where he was as the young pup sunk his teeth into McCormick's left hand. The kick and the throwing of the sandwich dislodged the pup but not before he'd hit pay dirt. Everything stopped as Mark uttered explicits while shacking his left hand madly. Then, reality set in and he continued toward the fire escape of the building. He was on the roof before he realized that he was bitten and bitten hard enough to have dripped blood from the bite site to here. He pulled the shirt sleeve down over his hand to stop the blood from dripping. He couldn't worry about how bad it was right now. He found a thick pipe to tie his rope to which was a little difficult with one hand hurting like hell and still bleeding enough to annoy him. After the rope was tied, he lifted the sky light, put on his repealing harness, and lowered himself into the interior of the building. Mark unhooked the rope and started carefully looking for room 312, where he pulled out his lock picks, picked the lock and found the file cabinets. Once in the right drawer it didn't take him long to find the file he was looking for, he shut the drawer, locked the office door, returned to the rope, where he found climbing back up with a wounded hand was more difficult than repealing down. When Mark reached the roof, he wound up the rope shut the sun roof, climbed down the fire escape and ran for the fence before the dogs had a clue, he was up the fence out of their reach. Leaving the blanket stuck in the barbed wire, Mark dropped to the sidewalk and casually walked back to the Coyote. He got in and drove off well under the limit. Mark pulled off several miles down the interstate at a rest area. He went in the deserted restroom, started the hot water flowing, soaped up his entire hand especially the two tooth marks in the back of his hand. The pup had sunk his teeth into the back of his hand at the webbing of the thumb and fore finger and at the side of the hand by his little finger. The pinching of the bite probably hurt worse than the punctures which were deep. After a good washing Mark wound paper towels around his hand hoping to stop the mild bleeding. It was 7 am and Mark drove toward the bondsman's office with his left hand held up in the window seal, hoping that elevating it would stop the bleeding.

By the time Mark made it to the bondsman's office the paper towel was more red than brown. He unwrapped it hoping that it had quit bleeding. Half way to the office he felt the blood running down his hand. He pulled his arm up into the sleeve of the jacket that it was much too warm for. Bondsmen are a special breed, they want the life's history of the person being bonded, but could careless who has the money to bond them. Mark waited tensely outside the Magistrate's office for Teddy.

Once in the car Teddy looked at Mark, who again had his hand wrapped and elevated. "Thanks, Man! What happened to your hand?"

Mark answered through gritted teeth as he held up the file, "This." He started the Coyote and drove to a deserted rest area.

It was early morning when Frank Harper drove into Gull's Way, he noted the absence of the Coyote. He knew he would likely find Milt by the pool, usually joined by McCormick, but this morning, he didn't expect to see the ex-con. "Morning Milt."

"Frank." answered Hardcastle in the most normal tone, "Care to join me for breakfast?"

"No. I'm more interested in why McCormick isn't joining you." Frank replied.

Milt replied, easily, "He left a note, said he had an, 'errand to run' and would be back this afternoon.

Frank was obviously bothered about something, "Milt, we have been friends a long time. Are you all working on anything?" Frank asked.

"No. Nothing that would cause him to go 'to point'." Hardcastle replied.

"Milt, there was a 211 last night out on Fredrick. I read the report and one name keeps coming to me. Are you sure that you two aren't working something that Mark 'needed' a closer look at?" Frank asked, honestly. He expected an honest answer from his friend even if he wouldn't like the answer.

Hardcastle replied, "No, we've got a couple of cases coming up in court soon and we just helped you guys collar Anderson last week. He's been playing 'catch up' around here. I haven't even decided on which case would be our next one."

Harper began, "Well, there's someone who has his MO down to a tee, ... or the kid is free lancing."

Hardcastle glared at the detective and hoped to sound convincing, "You've got the wrong guy."

"Well, if I can recognize his MO from a written report, how long do you figure it will take the officers investigating the B & E?" Frank asked. "Milt the guy was good. The scene was clean. Three alarm systems and cameras on site, nothing was tripped, and all the cameras were avoided."

"Maybe someone cased the joint or was just lucky." Milt suggested.

Harper replied, "No one is that lucky. Besides, the kid has been in this building before."

"So, what was broken into?" Hardcastle asked.

"The warehouse that stores the Federal Aviation records. That you all spent a lot of time around last summer." Harper informed.

Hardcastle tried not to change his expression. He knew if McCormick had been on the prowl, for whatever reason, that it was a one way ticket with him being on parole. He really hoped Frank was wrong.

Frank tried to seem more relaxed with his next comment than he felt. He knew what it would do to his friend if the kid took a fall now and dammit he like the kid himself, "Milt, the only thing about the scene that wasn't clean was whoever came over the fence," he paused, knowing what this next information would do to his friend, "either was cut on the barbed wire or ran into the watch dogs. Below the blanket that was used to go over the barbed wire was a fair amount of blood splattered about." He paused again to reassure Milt, "Nothing life threatening, but still a fair amount of blood there and a trail leading to the fire escape ladder. It disappears there, likely that once on the roof the injury was wrapped." Harper stopped talking.

Milt nodded, looked downward, locked his jaw and waited for Harper to continue.

Frank said so quietly that he wasn't sure anyone else would have heard him, but it was apparent that Milt had heard him loud and clear by his expression, "Milt, when the kid comes home, ... if he's hurt, ... anywhere, ..." Frank tried not to choke as he said, "I'll expect you to call me. I'll have to question him. ... I'm sorry Milt. ... I hope I'm wrong." Harper said as he stood to leave.

At the rest area, McCormick went to the rest room, washed his hand in hot soapy water again, dried it, and re-wrapped it in paper towels. He noticed the hand was not only sore from the pinching of the bite and the punctures of the teeth, but was also swelling. Mark hoped it was only from the force of the bite and that it was not getting infected. It had been four hours and still the punctures seeped blood every time he moved his hand. Any other time he would have had at least a roll of electrical tape in the Coyote to put pressure on the paper towels to stop the bleeding. But, as luck would have it, he had cleaned out the car when he washed it. He would have to settle with wrapping the hand in towels, making a fist and keeping it elevated. Hopefully it would stop bleeding soon. There was no reasonable way to explain a dog bite to Hardcase and no way to hide a bleeding wound.

Teddy was a bit frightened, "Skid, do you think we better get you to a hospital? That hand has been bleeding awhile."

"I'm fine Teddy. Besides, hospitals ask almost as many questions about a dog bite as they do a gunshot wound. It will quit bleeding in a bit. I've just got to keep it still." Mark said. He only hoped he was right.

Alone in the den, Hardcastle weighed the odds that McCormick would free lance a case or go back to his old ways. The odds were in favor of him screwing up, yet, Hardcastle found it hard to believe of McCormick. They had worked together, side by side, for over a year. Yet, any of the others, Hardcase would have already told Frank to pick them up. Why was McCormick different? What would he do if McCormick did come in hurt? He'd be obligated to call Frank, after all he was an officer of the court.

McCormick dropped Teddy off at his apartment, saying, "Just shout when you need the file. I think you'll be safer if I hold it."

Teddy asked, "What about you?"

"Me? They don't even know I exist, besides I've got the Judge." Mark replied.

"Thanks, Skid. I'll be in touch." Teddy replied, then added, "Take care of the hand."

Mark looked over at the tightly wrapped hand that he still held up in the window frame and said, "Yeah."

It was afternoon when McCormick pulled off the road and stopped at the entrance of Gull's Way. He unwrapped his hand which was swollen and still threatened to bleed with movement. He slid on a light weight jacket that it was far too warm to need, then continued up the driveway and parked in his usual spot.

Hardcastle was by the pool and heard the Coyote and headed toward the driveway.

McCormick had tucked the file under his jacket and slipped his wounded hand up into the jacket as he got out of the car. The effort of opening the car door had again caused the hand to bleed. Holding the dark colored jacket close to his hand he hurried toward the gatehouse as he heard the Judge call him.

"McCormick." Hardcastle called.

Just act like you're in a hurry. Be calm. Mark thought to himself. "Morning, Judge. I'll be right out." He kept walking, sure that Hardcase was following him. He opened the front door, headed directly to the bathroom, and closed the door. Now what? First things first. He opened the medicine cabinet took out the peroxide and doused his hand. He purposely moved the hand which was already bleeding pretty freely by now. He figured if it wouldn't quit bleeding then he may as well try to get it clean. After rinsing the hand several times, Mark dried his hand, applied some antibiotic cream. Knowing there was no way to hide this injury, he placed a bandage around the hand, then wrapped his hand from the bottom of the thumb to the bottom of his fingers. He hoped the tape would apply enough pressure to stop the bleeding as well as keep him from bending his hand which had proved to start the bleeding again.

"McCormick? Did you take up a new residence?" Hardcase called impatiently.

"No. I'll be right there." McCormick said annoyedly. He put up the first aid supplies. He then spotted the file that he had acquired. What was another couple of minutes? He opened the file looking for something, anything that might get him out of the mess he knew he'd be in as soon as he walked out the bathroom door. At first glance Mark saw nothing that made this file so important. It contained contracts of a company that designed and inspected the landing gear of airplanes. Further back it also contained the inspection logs on the many planes that used their landing gear. Someone wants this file bad enough to threaten Teddy into going after it. The reality of it all now hit McCormick like a ton of bricks. Teddy and I could both go back up for a long time over this file. There has to be something in here.

Hardcastle had been pacing around the living room waiting on McCormick to come out of the bathroom. The more he paced the more he worried. If McCormick was hurt, would he immediately pick up the phone and call Frank or would he give him a chance to explain. A chance to snow you? he thought. He knew he'd have to call Frank, but didn't he at least owe it to the kid, who had backed him all this time, a chance to explain? He was still debating with himself when McCormick opened the bathroom door.

With the file under the jacket that he carried which also covered the bandage on his hand Mark went around the couch and flopped down like he was exhausted. He waited for what he expected to follow.

Hardcastle noticed the jacket that McCormick had worn in that he still held. He looked the kid from top to bottom and was almost relieved not to spot any injuries, but then it clicked. He tried not to let it show that he had added up the facts against McCormick already. He also resisted the gnawing urge to call Frank right now. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then began, "What was so important that you were gone before dawn this morning?"

Here it came. McCormick tried to remain calm and answer Hardcastle without lying to him. "A friend needed a ride."

"What friend? I don't see you getting up that early to give one of those bimbos of yours a ride." Hardcastle asked as he watched McCormick's face for any sign of deception.

He let out a sigh, and said, "No, it wasn't any of the girls I know."

Hardcastle saw he was telling the truth on this, but knew he was trying to hide something with his 'you don't ask; I won't tell' routine. "Well, all your friends at the track should have had their own ride."

McCormick felt himself being boxed in. "It's wasn't anyone from the track. Just a friend who needed a ride."

Hardcastle knew McCormick's list of friends could usually be put in only a few groups: the girls he dated, old friends from the track, acquaintances he'd met through the Judge and ex-cons. "So which friend from prison needed a ride? Some one who just got out or what? You know that you're not supposed to be associating with know felons." he scolded.

Mark dropped his eyes just a bit before answering, "I know. It was Teddy."

"Teddy Hollins? The same Teddy that you both gave your word that if I invited him over occasionally that you'd stay away from each other?" Hardcastle asked in exasperation.

Using Hardcastle's own term, Mark attempted to explain. "Judge I knew you wouldn't be happy about this, but it was a case of flagrant necessity."

"Oh it was, was it? Well, I think you had better stop playing twenty questions right now, start from the top and don't leave out how you got hurt on Fredrick Street, either." Hardcastle took the calculated risk of including the other information.

McCormick knew that Hardcastle was good. He also figured that he hadn't done a good job of hiding that he was hurt, but how did this man do it? How could he know about Fredrick Street? This couldn't have been a lucky guess which meant he was in trouble. His mind was racing; Was the law looking for him? Were there already warrants out? Should he start from the top and hope Hardcase would help him? Should he keep quiet and try to figure out how much trouble he was in already without adding to the list? In the end he decided that if he wanted Hardcastle as any kind of an allie that he'd better tell him everything. With a loud sigh he began, "It all started really simply, Teddy called me from the County jail the other night." he paused.

Hardcastle was now really glaring, but remained silent.

Mark continued, "He asked me to come talk to him the next morning because the arraignment wasn't until today. He said it was really important."

"So, you a convicted felon on parole went down and signed in to see another convicted felon on parole at the County jail?" Hardcastle asked in amazement just below a bellow.

"Sort of." Mark grimaced.

Hardcastle growled, "Explain!"

"You see Teddy was booked in as Teddy Smith and I, well, I ..." McCormick reached in his back pocket with his right hand, took out the wallet with the fake ID in it and reached it to Hardcastle.

Hardcastle was at full boil now, "You signed it to see him as 'Nelson McGuire'?

McCormick simply nodded, "I knew you wouldn't like it. I'm not sure you'll understand, but I knew Teddy was in trouble. I figured I'd just go see what was wrong. No big deal."

"Unless you were caught?" Hardcastle reminded. "Why was Teddy in County to begin with?"

"Right." McCormick continued, "Trespassing after hours."

"I don't need to tell you if his PO finds out about that he's going back." Hardcastle said. "Especially with the false name business."

McCormick couldn't get the knot, that suddenly filled his throat, to go down. He was only able to nod to Hardcase's statement, knowing he was in far deeper right now than Teddy was.

"So, let's hear the rest." Hardcastle said.

"Teddy told me that he was approached by a guy who knew his past. He told him that if he got something for him he'd be paid well, if not, that he'd put Teddy in the middle of a 'world of shit'. Teddy didn't think he had a choice, so he tried to do the 'job'. That's when he was arrested for Trespassing. After he explained all this to me he asked me to ..."

Hardcastle interrupted him. "To do the job for him? And you did?"

Extending his right hand, Mark said, "Now, Judge you know Teddy. He's not that bad of a guy. I'd hate to see him in trouble. Besides, I hadn't made up my mind when I left County. I got the address and rode by. I didn't recognize the the address until I turned down the street, but I knew the building. Get one file out of a building I knew. It didn't seem that difficult."

"So you went after it?" Hardcastle yelled. "McCormick, there are laws against things like that!"

McCormick tried to calm him down a bit before continuing, "Well, I still hadn't decided to do it yet. I even thought about talking to you about it."

Hardcastle asked, "And why didn't you?"

"Because of this!" Mark swept his right arm to mean the whole scene they were having. "So after 2am this morning I slipped out, went to Fredrick Street, climbed the fence," taking his left arm from under the jacket for the first time, "Became a midnight snack for the watch dog who preferred me to the steak and peanut butter, got in, got the file and got out." He sighed loudly but continued before Hardcastle could interupt again, "Then, I went to the bondsman, gave him the money to bond Teddy out, picked him up after the arraignment and took him home."

"Where is the file?" Hardcastle asked.

Mark pulled out the file.

"Anything in it worth going back inside?" Hardcastle glared.

Mark bite his lip to contain the smart reply that he knew wouldn't help the situation right now. "Nothing I could see, but I only got a glance at it." He had to ask, but really wasn't sure he wanted the answer, "Is Frank on his way already?"

"No. I haven't called him." Hardcastle replied.

Mark questioned, "Yet?"

"Yet." Hardcastle replied.

McCormick nodded knowingly, "Well, I've been up all night and most of the night before last, so if it's alright, I'm going to go get a shower. Here's the file, Judge, there's got to be something pretty important in there for them to want it this bad." Mark said as he stood up and headed for the shower. He knew by it being a Federal building, that it wouldn't stop at Frank this time. He was in deep.

McCormick closed the bathroom door. He couldn't help but wonder if the next shower he took would be in a room with fifty other guys as he turned on the hot water. While waiting for the water to get hot McCormick got undressed as the old pipes began to squeal letting him know the water was now hot. Stepping in the shower he had to turn on just a bit of cold water. He stood under the warm water for a long while hoping it would wash some of his tension away. After lathering up his hair and body and rinsing off, Mark turned the cold water down a bit warming up the water to almost all hot. He let the hot water soak his wounded hand but also attempted once again to just relax and enjoy the hot water and privacy that he didn't expect to have for long. In fact he wouldn't be surprised to see Lt. Harper waiting for him in the living room when he went back in. Okay, so this was as relaxed as it got under the circumstances. Mark cut off the water and listened to the eerie silence from the other room. At least if Hardcastle had called Frank, he wasn't here yet. McCormick took the large thick blue beach towel from the shower door and begun drying. It sure beat prison towels that you could see through and were no bigger than the Judge's dish towels. After drying Mark shaved with a razor that didn't cut him and used his favorite aftershave. Just another simple luxury that you don't even think about until looking at going back to prison. Due to the alcohol content, aftershave wasn't allowed and the cheap razors issued cut more skin than whiskers. Mark picked out his curly hair remembering the small barber combs he'd been issued for two years. He rebandaged his hand and sighed. The shower was suposed to make him feel better but right now he was sure it had made him feel worse.

Opening the bathroom door, Mark saw Hardcastle studying the file at the table. "Anything?" He asked in almost a whisper.

Hardcastle looked up. "Maybe. Does Teddy know who wants this file?"

"No. He said the guy will contact him tonight about getting it. I figured it was safer here than with Teddy, besides I wanted to look at it and hoped you be able to find something..." Mark almost plead.

Hardcastle's elephant like memory was kicking in. "Have you seen that stack of newspapers I gave you last week for the windows that you never got around to cleaning?"

Mark almost jumped on the defense about the windows, but saw Hardcastle may be on to something. "Yeah, they are in the garage."

"Well, come on. Do you remember reading about that plane that crash landed at LAX a few weeks ago?" Hardcastle asked.

Mark thought, "Yeah, it was something about the landing gear failed. A lot of injuries, several deaths. You're thinking ..."

"That the company who made the landing gear and did the inspections would like this file and more important that the airlines insurance company not get it if they hadn't fulfilled the contract." Hardcastle said. "We just need that artical to make sure this was the company and see what plane that was."

"Well, come on! I know right where I put them." Mark said more animated than he'd been in days.

In the garage it took them quiet awhile to locate the right newspaper. Hardcastle knew the articale as soon as he saw it: 'Flight 233 from Atlanta to LAX crashed today when it appeared the landing gear failed as the plane touched down. The Boeing 747's landing gear was designed and manufactured by McClure, Inc. The crash caused four deaths while several passengers sustained injuries. All but ten were treated and released from local hospitals. The ten remain in guarded condition.' The crash is under investigation. Hardcastle said, "That's it. It was McClure that designed the landing gear."

"So now what do we do?" Mark asked.

Hardcastle looked at him with very sad eyes and replied, "First, let's go get some lunch."

McCormick suddenly wasn't very hungry but followed anyway. Hardcastle had already waited a couple of hours and still hadn't called Frank, but he didn't think his luck would hold until dinner.

Lunch consisted of ham sandwiches, chips and a pickle which Hardcastle and McCormick picked at more than ate. McCormick figured he couldn't stall anymore so he began stacking the plates in the sink with one hand.

Hardcastle asked, "How's the hand? Do you need to see a doctor?"

McCormick looked down at his bandaged hand, "It's sore from the bite and the punctures are still seeping, but I'll be fine. Besides, they'd ask too many questions."

After several minutes of the loudest silence he'd ever heard, Hardcastle cleared his throat and began, "Mark."

McCormick's radar went way up at the use of his first name. It was very rare that the judge used it.

Seeing the look, Hardcastle tried again with the familiar, "McCormick, I'm an officer of the courts. I have an obligation to call Frank like he asked me to. It will only be worse on you and me if he shows up here and I haven't called him. You know Frank, he's part bloodhound. I'm surprised he's not here already. I think I may be on to something but I need to know how to get in touch with Teddy. And, I need you to not answer any questions without me being there. As a matter of fact, you may want to just plead the fifth. (Pleading the fifth amendment on the grounds that anything you say might incriminate you.) It might not make you real popular, especially if the Feds want to question you. In the mean time I'll get up with Teddy and see if we can make sure the guy who wants this file is one of McClure's players. If he is, I might be able to pull your bacon out of this, but don't get your hopes up."

McCormick had only managed to tense more as Hardcastle spoke. He looked at the clock. It was almost 1pm on a Friday which meant by the time Frank got here, played twenty questions and he was inevitably booked into County that it would be Monday morning before he could be arraigned and either a bond set or his parole revoked. No doubt about it he was going inside. If it was just for the weekend, he was going back. He simply nodded his understanding as Hardcastle turned away from him and headed to the den. For a split second Mark thought about the back door and the Coyote close by, but as expected, maybe because it was expected, he followed Hardcastle to the den, then flopped into his usual place.

Hardcastle picked up the phone and found it a little hard to find his voice when the phone was answered, finally, he spoke, "Lt. Frank Harper please."

The voice replied, "He's not in his office at this time."

Hardcastle said, "This is Judge Hardcastle, can you patch me through to him?"

"Just a minute." she said.

The connection way made, "Lt. Harper."

Hardcastle said, "Frank it's Milt."

"Milt I was just on my way over there. Is he home?" Frank asked.

"Yeah." Hardcastle sighed.

"And?" Frank asked.

"Just come on over Frank." Milt's reply told the Lt. he was right.

"Damm. I hoped I was wrong." Harper said.

"Yeah, me too." Milt replied simply, being patched through like they were, it was hard to tell who as listening.

McCormick looked at Hardcastle as he hung up the phone.

"He was already on his way over." Hardcastle explained.

McCormick stood up, "Think I'll walk out to the pool." He saw the look from Hardcastle, reached in his jeans pocket, tossed the familiar key chain with the Coyote's keys on it onto the desk. It was a feeble gesture of good faith, but didn't go unnoticed by Hardcastle, who purposely didn't pick them up.

After talking to Hardcastle, Frank swore. He had hoped for Milt's sake that he had been wrong about the kid. He knew that in some ways this would hurt the judge more than if it had been his own son who had messed up. The kid had been the light in Hardcastle eyes almost from the time the kid walked back into Hardcastle's court for the second time. He himself had seen the kid go above and beyond the call to save Milt. Like the time the Judge had been arrested on bogus charges in San Rio Blanco. Milt told him how McCormick had hired a helicopter to break him out of jail when the embassy wouldn't listen. He had seen the kid hit by cars and bullets in the name of Hardcastle justice. Now, it was going to end like this with Milt having to report that it was him who broke into a Federal building. It had been all Harper could do to keep his suspicion to himself for the last few hours. The Feds were taking the embarrassing security breach personally.

McCormick stood by the pool watching the surf breaking. It was a sight he never tired of. He knew the sound of the Grey sedan without turning around. Frank was here. He didn't move as he heard the car door close. He'd give Hardcastle and him a few minutes before going inside.

As Lt. Frank Harper approached the front of the main house the door opened. He noticed the tension in his long time friend. "Milt."

"Come on in Frank." Hardcastle proceeded to the den.

Frank had noticed both cars and the truck when he came in, yet he hadn't seen McCormick by the pool. "Where is he?"

"By the pool." Hardcastle replied calmly.

"What?" Harper asked, more than a bit concerned.

Hardcastle reached on the desk and showed the Coyote's keys to Frank.

"With anybody else, those may make me feel better, but we are talking about McCormick." Frank said seriously.

Hardcastle gave a weak strained smile he didn't feel.

"Shall we?" Harper asked.

It was then they both heard the door open and McCormick walked in. He didn't want Harper to have to come looking for him. The instance he stepped through the door, Mark's face went to the blank lifeless face that Harper and Hardcastle had seen in his old mug shots. McCormick said flatly, "Lieutenant."

Frank noticed the bandage on his hand. "How's the hand?" he said out of concern.

McCormick thought the question was safe enough, "Sore."

"How did it happen?" Frank asked.

McCormick said flatly, "I'd rather not say."

Dammit. Milt was advising him. Harper knew he shouldn't be surprised. "Look McCormick I need to ask you some questions. Believe me, I'm asking them a lot nicer than the agents working the case will."

McCormick had zoned out, "You can ask me anything Lieutenant."

"Where were you when you hurt your hand?" Frank asked.

McCormick answered, "I'd like to plead the fifth to that question."

Harper was usually the 'good cop' in the good cop / bad cop situations, but right now the kid was getting to him. "Where were you at 3 am this morning?"

"I'd like to plead the fifth to that question." McCormick replied.

Harper tried one more question, "When was the last time you were in the warehouse at 10327 Fredrick Street?"

McCormick looked up from his lap, and said, "I'd like to plead the fifth to that question."

Frank folded his notebook up and placed it in his pocket. "Mr. McCormick I'd like to see you outside. Alone." Frank shot Milt a look that almost begged him to stay inside.

McCormick knew where this was going as well as the other two men did. He stood up and as he walked by Hardcastle's desk he tossed his necklace with his medallion on it onto the desk followed by the subtle gesture of 'patting himself down'. With his pockets empty, McCormick walked outside ahead of Harper.

Frank stepped to follow, when he saw Milt also start to follow. He held up his hand, "Milt."

McCormick heard and stopped at the door. "Judge. It's okay. Just work on that other. Okay?"

Hardcastle saw the pain in McCormick's eyes. He also knew that Harper wanted him to stay inside to 'spare' him the scene, but dammit he didn't want to be spared. But he did stop, able to only nod his assurance to McCormick.

Up until now all Harper had was circumstantial evidence against McCormick. He could take him into custody and hold him 72 hours for questioning, but he could see now how useful that would be. About this time his cell phone rang, "Lt. Harper."

"This is Agent John Mason. Checking the surveillance cameras in the neighborhood I was able to make a positive ID on the car used at the Fredrick Street break in. It seems it comes back to a Mark McCormick of Malibu. I'll be getting the warrant when I hang up. I believe he is a friend of your's house guest. Are you familiar with Mr. McCormick? He's a parolee with a record of liking other people's cars."

McCormick had uncharacteristically walked away from Frank and couldn't hear the conversation as he propped up on the hood of the Coyote.

"Yes, I can meet you downtown with that in an hour." Frank hung up the phone and walked over to McCormick. "Why?"

"What?" McCormick wasn't expecting this line of questions.

"That man standing inside that window has trusted, believed in, supported, and cared about you. How could you let him down like this?" Frank asked.

McCormick stated neither confirming or denying any charges, "You wouldn't understand. I'm not sure I do."

Frank began, "As we speak, a warrant for your arrest is being issued. I came out here to question you, but it seems the agent that you embarrassed has pictures of your car in the neighborhood of a B & E of a Federal building and with your history, well," He took the cuffs from their holder on his belt, reached a little rougher than he had planned to for Mark's wrist, placed the first cuff on Mark's wrist none too gently. He then put Mark against the car and proceeded to cuff his second wrist with his sore hand behind his back. He felt McCormick flinch and to late remembered his wounded hand. Frank then reached for his Miranda card, "Mark McCormick, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you can not afford an attorney one will be provided to you. Do you understand these rights?"

Mark sighed, "Yes."

Frank asked, already knowing the answer, "Do you want an attorney present during questioning?"

Mark replied, "Yes."

Frank opened the back door and assisted McCormick into the car.

Once the door of the car closed the bats, not butterflies, broke free and had full rein of McCormick's stomach. Other than when he stole the Coyote back for Barbara and when Teddy had robbed Judge Gault's poker game, this had been the only time since getting out of Quentin that Mark had actually been arrested. It was not a feeling he enjoyed but this time was different. He knew he would be charged under Federal law. He was sure that if Hardcastle didn't do something quick that Mr. Dalem would see that his parole was revoked. Even though Hardcastle was officially responsible, Dalem was still the PO of record. The only question Mark could see right now was who wanted him more the Feds or the State of California. Either way he wasn't sure that even Hardcastle could pull anything off. The ride to police headquarters with his sore hand behind him had not helped McCormick's hand. It felt more swollen now than it had earlier, but didn't feel like it had started bleeding again.

Harper parked the car in his usual spot, opened the back door of the sedan and helped McCormick out. Even without a sore hand, getting out of a backseat of a car with your hands cuffed behind you isn't easy.

As McCormick got out of the sedan, he saw the building he'd been in more in the last year than he'd ever thought possible with Harcastle, but what bothered him about the building where Frank's office was located is that it is adjacent to the Inmate Reception Center where he figured he'd end up spending at least his weekend. He did not look forward to this, even if by some miracle Hardcastle could do something. Might as well go in expecting the worse. A Federal wrap for B&E and of course the parole violation. Rough guess twenty years, maybe ten if I'm really lucky.

Frank Harper saw the young man tense even more than he was already. He understood from Hardcastle that each time he brought McCormick with him to Harper's office the kid had tried to find any excuse to wait outside. Under normal circumstances, Harper may have tried to ease the kids mind. But, these were not normal circumstances and, knowing that Milt was likely going through his own hell, Harper found just a bit of satisfaction at McCormick's uneasiness. He had hoped he was wrong when he read the report of the break in, but with McCormick not giving him any answers to his questions, the wounded hand and the fact the Coyote was seen in the neighborhood, Harper had little choice but to believe that he had broke into to the building. With McCormick shut down he would have to talk to Milt. There had to be more to this thing than met the eye, but he was sure that Milt would have told him something about the case if they had been working on something, which Milt had denied. Harper cleared his throat and said, "Let's go."

McCormick went into automatic pilot as he began to walk just in front of Lt. Harper.

In Hardcastle's den he could see McCormick setting on the hood of the Coyote and Frank talking on his cell phone. Then, there was a brief conversation between the two before Harper cuffed McCormick and read him his rights.

"Dammit." Hardcastle swore, though he wasn't surprised with the events. He had been a cop too many years to expect Frank not to take McCormick in for questioning. He cleared his throat and wiped his eye, as the sedan disappeared down the drive. "I got to get Teddy over here, then get down to the station while they questioned McCormick. Hardcastle knew he would be no more popular with the Feds than he was with Frank. If McCormick could buy him sometime without incriminating himself, Hardcastle just might have a plan.

Hardcastle went to the phone on the desk, "Teddy?"

"Hardcase?" Teddy asked, just a bit surprised to hear the judge instead of Skid.

"Castle. Hardcastle, Teddy." Hardcastle grumbled. He wasn't in the best of moods.

Hearing the judge's tone, Teddy knew this wasn't a social event. "Oh, yeah, sorry about that Judge."

"Look Teddy, we need to talk. Hop a cab and get over here pronto if not sooner." Hardcastle all but ordered.

"Uuu-mmm, yeah, okay, sure thing Judge. Something wrong?" Teddy asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Being vague due to being on the phone and not wanting to scare his information off, "It's nothing that I can't fix with your help. I think." Hardcastle said.

"Judge, this wouldn't have anything to do with Skid would it?" Teddy asked.

"Just get over here where we can talk, Teddy." Hardcastle insisted. "Cab's on me, just hurry it up."

"Thanks Judge. I'll be right over." Teddy replied. He hoped he wasn't walking in on a one way trip ticket back to prison.

Still handcuffed, McCormick got in the elevator with Frank behind him. The floor Frank pushed wasn't his office floor, but the floor where the interview rooms were. Dammit. Can't get a break. McCormick thought. He knew this was only one step away from 'receiving'.

Harper stopped at the desk, showed his ID and was told by the secretary, "Room 10."

Frank nodded and told McCormick, "Fifth door on the right."

McCormick heard the hushed whispers as he walked toward the interview room. He could imagine the now flowing gossip that he and Hardcastle were the topic of. He stopped in front of the door indicated by Lt. Harper.

Harper reacher around him and opened the door.

Mark saw the two men in expensive suits that had FBI written all over them. He also saw they had the tape recorder set up and ready. This was going to be a long evening.

Harper closed the door behind him, "Have a seat McCormick."

Mark found his voice before complying, "Lt. this is going to be a really long night. Could you take these cuffs off? You don't need them."

McCormick saw the unasked question between Harper and the FBI agents, who gave a look of indifference. Harper stepped to take off the cuffs.

McCormick said, "Thanks Lt." as he took a seat at the table.

Agent Mason asked, "Have you read Mr. McCormick his rights?"

Harper advised, "Yes, I have."

Agent Mason asked, "Is that correct, Mr. McCormick?"

"Yes." McCormick answered. Short answers were better at a time like this.

"Did you understand your rights? Or do you have any questions." Mason asked.

Mark replied, "I understand them. No, I don't have any questions."

Agent Mason began, "Good. Mr. McCormick I am Agent Mason, the Chief of Security of a warehouse over on Fredrick Street that was broke into last night or early this morning. As you can imagine it was quiet embarrassing for me as the Chief of Security this morning. Whomever made this security breach was good at what they do. However, I can place your car, which seems to be very unique, in the neighborhood early this morning. Would you care to explain why you were in that neighborhood in the wee hours of the morning?"

"Agent Mason I'd rather not answer any questions without consulting with my attorey." McCormick answered, trying keep the proceeding civil.

"I see." Agent Mason said, "Do you have counsel?"

"Yes, Sir." McCormick answered.

Agent Mason asked, "Do you need to call him?"

"No, Sir. He should be here any minute now." McCormick said calmly.

Agent Mason looked a bit surprised, but said only, "I see. Well, in that case, " he reached to turn off the tape. "We'll get started once he arrives." The agents stood up and left the room.

McCormick was messing with the bandage on his hand.

Harper had been setting on the corner of the table watching the matter unfold. "Milt should be getting here anytime. Are you sure that hand is okay?"

"Yeah, it's just gonna be sore for awhile." McCormick answered without disclosing what had happened to him.

Harper nodded. Walked out the door. The click that followed told McCormick that the door was locked. He set back and studied the room which was nothing to look at. A twelve by twelve, maybe, with all white walls, other than the locked door, there were three small barred windows that were maybe six by thirty inches. The only furnishings were the table, four chairs and the recorder. Alone, McCormick tried to work his hand. He could tell it was swollen more now than it had been earlier. He couldn't make a fist with it now.

At the front desk of the station, he asked the secretary for Lt. Harper.

"Let me check his office." She said. "He's not in his office."

Dammit. thought Hardcastle, "Could you try the interview rooms?"

She nodded, made another call and replied, "Interview room 10. Are you familiar?"

"Yes. Thank you." he said in a bit of a hurry.

Getting off the elevator, Hardcastle saw Frank Harper at the outer desk drinking a cup of coffee. "Well?"

"Well, he's listening to the advice you gave him." Frank said a bit annoyed.

Looking puzzled, Hardcastle said, "What?"

"Unlike McCormick he's being very polite. I haven't heard one smart remark from him today as a matter of fact and he refused to answer anything until you got here." Harper said tossing his cup in the trash. "Milt are you gonna let him say anything to us?"

Hardcastle had been friend with Frank Harper for a lot of years, "Frank, like he told you, you can ask him anything and he has been answering you. Due to the fact that I was only bought in on this myself today, I feel that I need adiquate time to discuss this entire case with my client and check into his story before I'll be able to give him any legal advice."

"Dammit, Milt. You could have just said no. It's Friday night and Claudia has made plans for us. I don't intend to set here all night to here the same lack of information I've already got from him. But, that doesn't mean our friends from the Bureau feel that way." He pointed toward the two agents approaching them. "Agent Mason, Agent Knight, this is Retired Superior Court Justice, Milton C. Hardcastle. He will be representing Mr. McCormick."

With the pleasantries exchanged, Lt. Harper said, "Shall we?"

McCormick jumped when he heard the door unlock. He turned to see the FBI agents, Lt. Harper and Hardcastle enter the room.

Agent Mason turned on the tape again, "Okay, Mr. McCormick. Your attorney is here. Can we proceed?"

Very unlike his normal self, McCormick answered, "Yes, Sir." Instead of the smart reply he would have normally given.

Hardcastle stepped in, "Agent Mason as Mr. McCormick's counsel I have advised him to plead the fifth amendment to any question that he feels may incriminate him in this matter until such time as we can discuss this entire matter."

"You have advised Mr. McCormick to not co-operate in this investigation?" Mason asked.

"Of course not, you can ask my client anything you'd like and he will answer you." Hardcastle replied confidently, giving McCormick a 'keep you cool' look.

Harper groaned slightly. He saw the next few hours. It wasn't pretty.

Agent Mason began, "Your name?"

Mark replied, "Mark McCormick."

"Your address." Mason asked.

"101 Pacific Coast Highway, Malibu." Mark said automatically.

"You are currently on parole?" Mason asked.

"Yes." Mark said, trying not to sigh.

Agent Mason thought he might be getting somewhere, although Mark was only confirming information he already had. "What was the charge you were in on?"

"Grand Theft Auto." McCormick replied, as his jaw tightened.

Mason asked, "Who's car did you steal?"

McCormick answered matter of factly, "Mine."

Harper and Hardcastle groaned loud enough it got the agents attention. They could be here all night on this subject.

McCormick seen Hardcastle check the time and could tell he wanted this wrapped up quicker than what looked like it would be going. "Okay, it was my car but it was registered to my girlfriend who turned me in for taking it after a fight."

McCormick had given Mason a false since of achievement with his provided information.

"Have you ever been in the warehouse at 10327 Fredrick Street?" Mason asked as he hoped to get to the heart of his questions.

"Yes." McCormick answered without batting an eye.

"When?" Mason asked eagerly. He hoped he'd get a quick confession.

"Last year." McCormick replied.

"Why?" Baffled, Mason inquired.

McCormick stated, "Judge Hardcastle was checking some records in a case he was working on. I was with him."

"Is that the only time that you have been inside the warehouse?" After his moment of confusion, Mason asked confidently.

McCormick watched as he ran head first into a brick wall, "I'd like to plead the fifth on that."

A deflated agent asked, "How did you hurt your hand?"

"I'd like to plead the fifth, Sir." McCormick said in a very controlled voice.

"What kind of a car do you own?" Mason asked.

McCormick knew he had the information or it wouldn't take much to get it, but he decided to be stubborn, "Again, I'd like to plead the fifth."

Harper shot Hardcastle daggers.

Mason decided to push McCormick's buttons a bit, "Who's you parole officer?"

McCormick debated how to answer this, then replied with what he knew would be a cuve ball for the agent, "I was paroled into Judge Hardcastle's custody."

Mason's eyes opened a bit wider, "Judge?"

Hardcastle explained, "It's all a part of expanding the discretionary power of Judges."

"Is Judge Hardcastle the parole officer of record?" Mason asked.

McCormick didn't want to answer this, but it had nothing to do with incriminating himself. So he sighed and answered, "No."

"Who is?" Mason asked.

McCormick could see Dalem keeping his office open late tonight. Just to pull his ticket. "Mr. Dalem."

Mason wasn't familiar with the building they were in, "Where is his office?"

Mark tried not to sigh as he replied, "Second floor."

"Of this building?" Mason asked.

McCormick nodded as he replied, "Yeah."

Hardcastle liked this line of questioning no more than McCormick did. He wanted a chance to figure this out before Dalem was notified. He checked his watch again, 4:45 on a Friday afternoon. Maybe he left early.

Mason waved his hand toward Agent Knight to go call Dalem. The junior agent had been bored with the questioning and eagerly took the chance to do anything else.

While waiting on Knight to return, Mason sat on the corner of the desk, trying his best to give the impression that he was in control of this situation. "Mr. McCormick, it's a Friday night and I'm sure a young man like yourself has better things to do than to set in a cell all weekend, which is what is going to have to happen if we cannot get our questions answered."

McCormick almost laughed, except this wasn't funny. But, had he not have been facing Federal charges, he might have laughed at the agents 'threat' of a weekend in County jail. He also knew that answering the agent's questions truthfully would not only get him a weekend in County but a lot more weekends in places he'd just as soon not think about. He crossed his arms and leaned back slightly in the hard chair, attempting to give the appearance of being relaxed and unworried.

McCormick was saved from any reply that he might have voiced, when the other agent returned, "Mr. Dalem's secretary said that he left early today and won't be back in the office until Monday."

McCormick almost cheered at the news, but tried to keep his expression neutral. If I get out of this, I'm calling Mr. Dalem's office to see if Melinda still works there. If that was her who took that call, I'm treating her to a steak dinner!

Hardcastle could tell that McCormick had been sweating the call to Dalem's office. If the truth were known, so was he. Years of being a cop told Hardcastle that the agent was running out of questions unless he wanted to start over from the top. Frankly, Hardcastle could do without that right now. "Agent Mason if you have no more questions for my client, I'd appreciate him being released in my custody until Monday. I can assure you that he will be here first thing Monday morning to continue this."

McCormick wasn't sure who was more shocked at Hardcastle's boldness; Harper, the agents or himself. He had to give Hardcastle an 'A' for effort, but didn't expect it to work.

Mason replied, "Judge Hardcastle I'm sure you can appreciate the seriousness of the charges that are pending in this case and the fact that Mr. McCormick was in your custody when the incident happened. Therefore, I can see no way to release Mr. McCormick from custody until we've either gotten some proof of his innocence or some answers to our questions."

McCormick tried not to sigh.

"Lt. Harper have you made arrangements for Mr. McCormick?" asked Agent Mason.

Harper sighed as he picked up the phone and turned away from McCormick, "This is Lt. Harper. I need a holding cell. The suspect will be booked in and held for questioning."

McCormick had heard most of Harper's request. He would have almost preferred to have been put in a population cell instead of the holding cell. In the holding cell he'd be totally alone with nothing to do but wait for the next round of questions. At least in population he would have had someone to talk to. Time in the holding cells was definitely hard time.

Hardcastle rubbed his temples. He wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to pull McCormick out of this one.

Harper replied in the phone, "Thanks." then to the agent, "Receiving is expecting him."

Hardcastle saw the 'wall' around McCormick suddenly get higher. "Frank when can I talk to McCormick?"

"Receiving is pretty flexible with attorneys. Must don't show up at 4 am." Harper cautioned. Frank reached for his cuffs.

"Lt. you really don't need those. I've been expecting this for the last couple of hours." McCormick said very calmly.

"Procedure." was all Harper trusted himself to say at the moment.

McCormick nodded. Before holding his hands out for Harper to cuff him, he said, "Sorry to mess up your weekend Judge. When should I expect you tomorrow?" This had been McCormick's subtle hint for Hardcastle to leave before this got worse for him.

Hardcastle didn't bite. "I'm going down with you."

Before McCormick could argue, Frank jumped in sounding official, "Judge Hardcastle I'll be escorting Mr. McCormick to receiving. It really will serve no purpose for you to accompany him at this time. Being a Friday night, it could be some time before he is processed in." Frank still had not cuffed McCormick. "As a matter of fact, I'm sure that the agents would appreciate you showing them the way out. It's not often that we have such distinguished guests and I'm sure an old war horse like yourself knows this place blindfolded and in the dark."

Being far less tactful, Hardcastle grumbled, "Okay, I'm going now Frank." He opened the door with far more effort than necessary.

The agents followed with only a raised eyebrow toward Frank.

As the door closed, McCormick said, "Thanks, Lt. he didn't need this."

Frank barked, "He sure as hell didn't! So how about telling me why you are putting him through it."

"You know what I mean." said McCormick.

"And, you know what the hell I mean!" Harper said in utter frustration, "You and you alone, have been his reason for holding himself together since he retired. What is he supposed to do if you 'plead the fifth' right back into Quentin or worse?"

Softening for only a second, McCormick looked Frank in the eyes, "Frank I told you that you wouldn't understand."

"You are right about that. Let's go, Claudia is going to string me up by my toes already." He placed the cuffs on McCormick's wrists. He had to purposely stop himself from clamping them too tight. He managed to stop at uncomfortable rather than painful.

In the truck Hardcastle gathered his wits and took a couple of deep breaths before heading to the local night club where Teddy was working.

Teddy was setting up a table when Hardcastle walked in. He went over to the matradee and said to Hardcastle, "It would be my pleasure to seat you. I haven't seen you in here in quiet some time."

"Thank you, that would be nice." Hardcastle replied.

"Will you be dining alone or are you expecting another party?" Teddy said professionally.

"Alone. Somewhere in the back would be fine." Hardcastle played along.

Teddy said, "Right this way, Sir." As they walked toward the table he said under his breath, "Where's Skid? Everything alright?"

"Cooling his heals. Just follow our plan and things should be fine." Hardcastle replied quietly.

In receiving, McCormick was uncuffed, strip searched, given County blues to dress in, while his shirt, shoes and jeans were placed in his 'property'.

Frank was waiting for him when he came out from being processed. "McCormick I know you are not going to like being held in holding but due to the things you have helped with and the fact that we are only holding you for questioning, I feel you are safer in a holding cell."

"Lt. neither you nor Hardcastle know anything about being safe here. There is no such place in here." McCormick added, "They knew I was here in cuffs before the agents did. This story is far to good to keep quiet even by your best officers."

Harper replied, "I hope for their sake you are wrong."

McCormick replied flatly, "Trust me. I'm not."

McCormick hoped that Hardcastle knew what he was doing as he laid on the steel bunk with the thin fire proof mattress. He had mentally figured the size of the cell, which was no more than an eight by six foot area that contained one steel bunk, a steel toilet / sink combo, one six by thirty inch barred window, and the locked barred cell door with a feeder slot so that the didn't have to be open at meals. Minutes turned to hours which turned to timeless boredom and finally sleep. Which was only interrupted by the normal Friday night's goings on, of drunk and disorderly's and DUI's, who had just enough to drink to want to yell and shout obscenities to the guards who had nothing to do with their arrests or their present state of woes.

It was near 11:00 pm when the man came in the club and took a seat at the far end of the bar where Teddy was helping out. "Give me a beer." he said to Teddy who remembered him from their last meeting.

Teddy poured two mugs of beer. Placing the first in front of the new customer. "Yes, Sir."

The man spoke in a whisper, "You have the file?"

Teddy nodded a 'yes' and replied, "I've got to deliver this beer. It will only take a second." Teddy walked around the bar and to Hardcastle's table. While keeping his back to the man at the bar he said, "Here's you beer you didn't order. Guys at the end of the bar, alone with the jacket."

Hardcastle paid for the beer and nodded. As Teddy left he studied the man's features. He was several years older than Hardcastle remembered. His name was Louie Banks, Hardcastle had sent him up several years ago for Conspiracy. Banks like to think he was at least semi mobbed up, but even the mob stayed clear of him. Now all Hardcastle had to do was find a link between him and McClure, Inc.

Teddy had returned to the bar.

Banks asked, "So where's the file?"

"You don't think I'd bring something that important in here do you?" Teddy asked. "I come into work early tomorrow. How about meeting me across the street in the park at say noon?"

The brainless stooge readily agreed. "Okay, but you are sure you have it?"

"Yeah, I have it." Teddy asked. "I suppose you'll have the money you promised?"

Banks finished his beer and replied as he got up to leave, "It's as good as yours."

Teddy hadn't been worried about the money, but had he acted otherwise it may have looked suspicious. He walked over to Hardcastle's table after the other man left. "Tomorrow, noon, across the street."

"Thanks, Teddy." Hardcastle finished his own beer and headed to the truck.

Back at Gull's Way, Hardcastle made a pot of coffee before getting started. With Sarah off for a few days, he had the entire place to himself and he didn't like it at all. He pulled Louie Bank's file out and put it on the desk. Taking his seat he looked at the phone. He needed information and there was only one person who could get it. It was just after midnight as Milt dialed the phone.

"Harper." Grumbled Frank expecting it to be the station calling at this hour. He had thought that with luck that Claudia might forgive him for being late from work before they went to bed, but not at this rate.

"Frank sor..." Hardcastle began.

"Milt! You know it's after midnight?" Harper asked.

Hardcastle replied, "Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I just need a small favor. Actually it's a big favor but it shouldn't be hard for you to find out."

"Yeah, well let's hear it. The office may be safer than the house at this point anyway." Harper sighed.

"There was a plane that crashed at LAX when the landing gear failed. I need to know who the insurance company for the airlines was." Hardccastle explained.

"It shouldn't be hard to find out. Airlines? As in Aviation? Milt, ... this doesn't have anything to do with McCormick does it?" Harper sighed.

Hardcastle returned the sigh, "Yeah, it might."

Harper asked, "When do you need this information? And don't tell me yesterday."

Hardcastle had to crack just a bit of a smile, "No, by tomorrow early morning? Will that work and keep your marriage intact?"

Frank replied, "It just might if the phone doesn't ring again tonight."

"Thanks, Frank." Hardcastle replied.

McCormick had been awakened yet again by another new inmate. He tossed his left hand over his face to block the light from the hallway. The touching of his hand to his face not only hurt like heck but the hand was beginning to feel warm. He knew he did not need this hand to get infected and need medical attention or he'd have a lot of explaining to do with a dog bite on a medical record. He could only hope that it was better or at least not worse tomorrow.

It was just before 7 am when the phone rang. "Hardcastle." Milt said.

"Milt I got your information. It's a Carlton's Group Insurance Agency. A John Carlton is the agent." Frank said, then added, "Yeah, I have a number too, it's 1-800-555-7000."

"That's great. Thanks Frank. I know I said early but this is early even for you." Hardcastle commented.

"Not when you haven't been to bed." Frank replied.

Hardcastle grimaced before asking his next question, "So I figure lunch is out of the question, about noon?"

He sighed, "Is this business or social?"

"Well, I meant for it to be social, but it might turn into business." Hardcastle explained.

Frank replied, "Call me when you got the details worked out. I'm going to try to get a couple hours sleep."

"You got it. Thanks again Frank." Hardcastle said as he hung up the phone, rubbed his hand together, and got ready to get busy.

It was after 9 am when he finally got an answer at the insurance company's number. Hardcastle's luck running much better than normal when the phone was answered by a man who identified himself as John Carlton. "Mr. Carlton I am Retired Superior Court Justice Milton C. Hardcastle. I have been involved in a case and have stumbled onto some information that I think your company might be interested in. I can be at you office in about thirty minutes."

"Well, Mr. Hardcastle I'm only in the office today to work on an important matter. Maybe you can set up an appointment this week." Carlton suggested.

Hardcastle decided he'd have to give a few details to get this guy to bite. "This is involving the plane crash at LAX where the landing gear failed."

Mr. Carlton replied, "I think I can work you in, whenever you can get here."

Hardcastle smiled, "I'll be right over."

McCormick loosened the bandage from his hand. The entire back of his hand was swollen, red, and very warm. He hoped that whatever Hardcastle had in mind worked quickly or that he'd at show up and let him in on the plan. Mark covered the wound back up and set with his back to the wall and his arms wrapped around his knees as he watched the new inmates from last night being processed now that they had sobered up.

The morning trustees were going about their jobs and part of a trustee's job as an inmate is scouting for information to take back into the population cell area.

McCormick knew this and also knew that he would either be labeled a snitch or a screw up depending on who told the tail of him being here. The fact he was in a holding cell would make it look like he needed or wanted protective custody which would translate into being a snitch. With this being the receiving unit for the California Corrections system any information inmates got here would be in one manner or another passed up state to the other facilities. This meant that should Hardcastle not be able to pull a rabbit out of his hat, that Mark McCormick, the retired Judge's pool boy gone bad was going to live hard; if not for having been the Judge's pool boy, but for giving it up to rat on someone.

In Carlton's office, Hardcastle began, "I read in the paper about how the crash at LAX was caused by the landing gear failing. I understand that you represent the airlines." Hardcastle looked thoughtful and continued, "I bet the families are going to try to really stick it to you?"

"That's actually why I'm here today. I'm not sure that my company can handle this kind of settlement and still survive." Carlton replied.

"Do you have the aviation records from where the plane was inspected?" Hardcastle asked, knowing the answer.

Carlton answered before thinking, "I only wish I did. Before I could get it there was a break in at the aviation building and the file was stolen."

"Suppose I told you that I think McClure, Inc wanted this file because they weren't doing the inspections and had a two time looser arrange the break in by blackmailing someone to go get it?" Hardcastle asked.

"I think I'm really interested in what you have to say." Carlton replied.

Hardcastle began, "Mr. Carlton, I'm going to be honest with you. The two time looser that set up the break in blackmailed a parolee into doing the job by offering a lot of money if he did the job and threatened a lot of trouble should the parolee declined the offer. It seems that the parolee bungled the job and asked a second parolee to get the file to keep the first out of trouble. As you know the second was successful in getting the file, however, he has been picked up by police for questioning. Now, the first parolee has the file and is supposed to turn it over today at noon to the man who made the offer. The file has been copied to look like what they want but it leaves out the information on Flight 233. The parolee will give it to the contact and we can follow him to his contact which I figure will lead us right to McClure, Inc."

"So, what do you want from me?" asked Carlton.

Hardcastle simply replied, "Since my retirement, I have kept busy with such cases. I'd like to offer you my assistance in catching these guys that are trying to make your company pay for their mistake. However, my normal assistant, as much as I hate to admit it right now, happens to be the second parolee. Who could have been working with me for your interests had we had this discussion a week ago."

Carlton was seeing Hardcastle's thinking, almost. "Say no more. How much do you charge for you services?"

Hardcastle looked at him mildly confused. "Charge? No. No, you have me all wrong. I like to see the good guys win. This McClure, Inc. signed a contract with the airlines that you insure to do a job which they failed to do. So, now there are a lot of people who are paying a bigger price even than your company will and that's all just plan wrong. I'll be the first to admit that my assistant went about getting that file wrongly. However, if enough good comes out of this, I could only hope that the airline and yourself might just be able to help me convince them to drop the charges against my assistant."

Carlton nodded, "Mr. Hardcastle you have yourself a deal, though I'm not sure of how much help that I can be for your friend."

"Assistant." Hardcastle corrected, "I understand. I'm not sure of that myself but it the only chance I can offer him." Standing and extending his hand, "Thank you for your time Mr. Carlton."

Carlton shook Hardcastle's hand, "Just let me know what I can do."

"I'll be in touch." Hardcastle said he left the office.

Hardcastle checked the time. It was still early enough for him to stop by the jail to talk to McCormick. He headed the truck across town. After parking the truck, Hardcastle took off his gun and placed it under the seat. He showed his identification and signed into see McCormick. Due to regular visiting hours being later in the day, Hardcastle was the only one in there. He took the last seat and waited for McCormick to be brought around. He saw a brief second of relief when McCormick spotted him.

McCormick took the seat opposite him and picked up the phone. he waited for the correctional officer to move away before speaking, "Judge. Am I glad to see you."

Hardcastle replied gruffly, "It's only been a few hours, McCormick."

"I suppose you were only in San Rio a few hours too?" McCormick asked.

Hardcastle had to smile just a bit. There was the McCormick he was used to. "Point made. Now, let's get down to business. I have been talking with the insurance agent for the airlines of that flight. It seems they would really like to get their hands on the information that you obtained. Teddy has set up a meeting with his contact today. I hope to get Frank and follow his contact back to McClure."

McCormick interrupted. "So, you get McClure and the contact and we all go off to camp together?"

Hardcastle grumbled, "You're smarter than that after we get them, then the insurance company and the airlines can go to bat for you for helping them save a lot of money and getting the bad guys."

"Are you sure that'll work?" McCormick asked.

Hardcastle was honest, "No, but do you have a better idea?"

McCormick shook his head, "No."

Hardcastle rubbed his hands together, "Alright, then, I'm off to see Frank and get things set up."

"Judge." Mark stopped him, "We may have another little problem."

"What's that?" Hardcastle asked.

McCormick pointed toward his left hand that he had kept laying very still on the shelf before him.

Hardcastle could see around the bandage that McCormick had put on that is was swollen considerably and red. "Infection?"

McCormick nodded, "Yeah."

"Get them to have a nurse look at it." Hardcastle replied.

"No way." McCormick said sharply, "Do you know the questions they'd ask and what that information on a medical record could do to me? Just do your thing and get me out of here."

"I can't tell you that its even going to work let alone how soon I can get you out of here, if it does, by some miracle work. That needs attention now, not later." Hardcastle said.

McCormick nodded 'no', "I'm fine for now really. If it gets worse I'll go."

Hardcastle responded gruffly, "I'll be back and if it's worse, I'll tell them about it. Got it?"

McCormick nodded, 'yes', "Yeah. Got it. But, give your thing a chance to work first?"

"Okay. For now." Hardcastle stood as he saw the officer approach.

"Be careful out there. Even the Lone Ranger needed Tonto." McCormick warned.

Hardcastle replied lightly, "Hey, I've got Teddy."

"I know Teddy." Mark paused just a brief second, "Be careful Judge." He hung up the phone at turned away.

Hardcastle watched him walk away before leaving. He had broken his parole and broken into a Federal building, yet, it still bothered Hardcastle to see McCormick here. He knew the kid was wrong but still he was trying to work out a deal to get him out. 'Why? And why does it bother you to see him here? When here is where he should be for what he did. But, if he hadn't gotten that file, then McClure would have it by now. You don't know that, it could have remained right where it was until Carlton picked it up.' Hardcastle decided that arguing with himself over this wasn't doing anyone any good, so he headed toward Frank's office.

Expecting to have to call Frank as earlier planned, Milt was surprised to see his friend digging in his file cabinet as he opened the office door. "I thought you'd still be at home."

Frank shut his drawer loudly, "I hoped I'd still be at home. Unfortunately, it seems life had other plans."

Hardcastle took this opportunity, "Since you're already hear, how about that lunch I promised you?"

Defeatedly, Harper replied, "Sure why not." He said reaching for his jacket.

"Frank, before we leave, you might want to open that drawer back up and grab a wire." Hardcastle suggested easily. Hoping that Frank wouldn't back out. He could tell that Harper was tired and pretty stressed.

Without a word, Frank opened the drawer and got the wire.

By lunch, McCormick was glad that he was right handed. Had he been left handed, he may not have been able to have held the plastic spoon to eat. For a second he considered asking the correctional officer that accompanied the trustee who was giving out the trays about seeing a nurse. Then, decided to wait until after seeing Hardcastle.

Hardcastle and Frank met Teddy for lunch at a small cafe' several blocks from where Teddy was to meet his contact. After a quick lunch, they used the restroom to fit Teddy with the wire. Frank asked, "Are you sure you have it down what we need you to do?"

Teddy said casually, "Yeah, sure. I turn over the file, take the money and get out of there."

It had been a little too casual for a tired Frank, who added, "Once you go into work an officer will pick up the money."

"How will I be sure that he's who I'm suppose to turn it over to? You know it could be just anybody watching and deciding they need the money." Teddy rambled.

Hardcastle stepped in, "Because just anybody wouldn't know the plan or be carrying a badge."

Teddy replied, "Oh, I don't know Judge, ... you can get those things anywhere now days, maybe I should just hold on to it until you guys come for it?"

Hardcastle said gruffly, "And maybe you'd like that officer who is picking up the money to arrest you instead, for being in on the whole thing?"

That got Teddy's attention, "Ah, no, ... no, Judge. I'll hand the money over to who ever asks for it."

Giving him an evil grin, Hardcastle replied, "I thought you'd see things our way. Now, are we ready?"

Frank checked his watch. It was 11:30 am. "Everyone should be in place. We'll go check while Teddy walks over to the park."

With the fake file tucked under his jacket, Teddy left the restroom and walked out the front door heading up the street towards the park where he was to meet the contact.

Frank looked at Milt and said, "You know, for about the hundredth time since this whole thing started I've wished that it was McCormick wearing that wire instead of Teddy."

Agreeing with Frank, Milt replied, "Yeah, I know what you mean." He found the simple admission was too close to talking about how he really felt. He cleared his throat and added gruffly, "Teddy will do alright. At least he had better or he'll have me to answer to."

Parked a short distance from the park in Frank's sedan Milt and Frank saw Teddy approaching. Frank said into his mic, "Teddy can you hear me?"

Teddy rubbed his hand across his face as he answered, "Yeah, I hear you."

"Good, just listen. Take a seat on a bench near where you work." Frank instructed.

Teddy approached where he worked, checked his watch, crossed the street, he casually took a seat on a bench right in front of where he worked, as if he was killing time before going into work.

It took twenty minutes before Teddy's contact felt comfortable enough to show. Hardcastle recognized Banks as he approached from behind them, "Easy Frank. My side, behind us, heading this way." Hardcastle said as he turned the page of the paper he pretended to read.

Harper folded his paper as if he were finished with it and laid it across the radio in the seat.

Banks never even gave the sedan a half of a glance as he passed it carrying a fast food bag.

Teddy saw him coming, but let the man approach him.

Banks said, "I brought you some lunch."

Teddy sat up just a bit taking the bag. He looked inside to see a lot of money, "Well, good. Money will be tight until payday, but this should help."

Banks replied, "Glad to help out."

Teddy pulled out the folder, "These are all my bills. Thanks for trying to help me straighten them out."

Banks replied, "I'll see what I can do." He thumbed through them.

It was obvious to Hardcastle when he thumbed through the file he didn't have a clue what he was looking for or looking at for that matter.

Teddy took the fast food bag, checked his watch, and said, "Well, I need to get to work. Thanks again for lunch."

Banks replied, "Not a problem."

Teddy walked across the street as Banks walked away in the opposite direction that he'd came from.

Frank let him cross the street at the end of the park before he started the car. Traffic was surprisingly light as Frank followed Banks to a small dinner a few blocks away. Frank and Hardcastle walked into the diner. Hardcastle took a table near where Banks and another man sat.

Harper went to the pay phone towards the back of the dinner and placed a call, "Agent Mason this is Lt. Harper."

Agent Mason said a bit annoyed, "Lt. this is a Saturday afternoon."

Harper replied, "I'm aware of that but I have located your missing file and unless I miss my guess there is about to be a lot of money exchanged for it. If you have other plans my guys will handle it."

Mason asked, "Where are you? I'm on my way. Don't do anything."

Frank gave him the location and said quickly before hanging up, "If this goes down before you get here, we will detain everyone involved and wait for you to get here." He knew in this case he probably shouldn't have done what he just did, but knew this couldn't wait for the two parties to split up. He took a seat at the table with Hardcastle who had ordered them both coffee.

When Banks and his contact made the exchange it was indeed quick. Banks slide the file across the table. The other man passed Banks a manila envelope, dropped a couple of bills on the table and both walked toward the door.

Harper said into his mic as he was moving, "Now. The two at the door."

Hardcastle had moved to block the exit at the back door with his gun drawn.

Just as the two saw the blue uniforms heading towards the diner, Harper who also had his gun out as he said, "Just stop right there. You are under arrest."

If for no other reason but shear surprise, both men stopped dead in their tracks. The money and the file was confiscated as evidence and both men were cuffed and placed into two different cruisers until an agitated Agent Mason arrived.

Hardcastle had gotten tied up with the arrests and reports. McCormick sat waiting on him to show up as the pain in his hand had gotten worse and had swollen more. He sat up and took the bandage off. A blind man could see the red streaks heading up his forearm toward his elbow. He swore. The next officer that walked by he said, "Officer, I have a cut that seems to be getting infected. Is there any chance of getting someone to check it out?"

The officer replied, "Let me see it."

McCormick swore silently as he uncovered his hand.

Unknown to McCormick the officer was also an EMT who recognized the signs of a serious infection. "I'll be right back", she said.

Much to McCormick's surprise it was only a very few minutes later when the officer unlocked the cell door, "The nurse will see you and get that wound cleaned up. How did it happen?"

"I was doing yard work." he lied.

The nurse took one look at the hand and began gathering peroxide, antibiotic cream, clean dressings and an antibiotic for McCormick to take by mouth. "How did you say this happened?"

McCormick lied again, "Yard work."

"The yard sure has nice sized teeth to make punctures like those, but I'd rather you lie to me than loose that hand." she sighed.

After a brief conversation with Hardcastle, Mr. Carlton phoned Agent Mason to report that the insurance company had worked with Judge Hardcastle and his 'associate' to get the McClure file for safe keeping but to also test the security of the building which housed the files for the company they represented. Mr. Carlton stressed the point that McCormick, being Hardcastle's assistant retrieved the file, turned it over to Hardcastle who turned it over to Carlton thus the file was in proper hands all the time. Also, a duplicate file had been used as bait to nab a company responsible for several deaths and many injuries who had failed to meet the agreements of the contracts and attempted to defraud the insurance company of the money to settle with the victims and their families. Hardcastle and Carlton also offered to help Agent Mason with upgrading his security of the Federal records. McCormick and Teddy's testimonies would be given in exchange for the charges being dropped against both Teddy and McCormick.

Two weeks later as the late news was going off McCormick turned the TV in the den off as he stood up, "Night Hardcase."

"Hey, where are you going? Remember, tonight is when we are supposed to go help Mason?" Hardcastle reminded.

McCormick gave a sarcastic laugh, "How could I forget? Nothing like a little midnight run on a Federal building." He had been forced to agree to attempt to break into the same Federal building every so often for the next year and help Mason upgrade the security in return for Mason dropping the charges and the Parole violation. "How do you know I won't just get caught quick to prove how good the upgrades are?"

Hardcastle grinned, "Because you enjoy the game too much."

As he got out of the truck, McCormick put on his black gloves. His hand was still tender. He asked. "Judge? You did tell him to feed that dog right?"

Hardcastle just smiled.