Prologue
It was night when it happened, as it should be. It should always be night when evil intentions and evil ideas come to fruition; when the night can cloak the evil doers’ horrid faces and forked tongues. Only during the night, only during the time when quiet emptiness permeates the world can you hear evil’s terrible heart beat and feel its breath. Only at night should good men die.

David Jacobs was a young assistant district attorney, burning the midnight oil, working on the biggest, most important case of his life. At least, that’s how he felt. He was moderately well-built, with short, black hair. The papers and photos from his personal investigation were strewn about the top of his favorite oak desk. He wanted to sleep desperately, using a bottle of 1988 Jack Daniels as a sedative, but keeping one of the windows open in a vain attempt at keeping himself aware. He didn’t really know what the next move would be.
David had been staring blankly at all the pictures for some time, not even thinking about them or much of anything for that matter; too tired to think. Finally he took a sharp breath and shook his head, snapping himself out of his exhaustion-induced trance. The weariness wouldn’t go away though, and he didn’t try to fight it again. He would sleep here, he decided. David crossed his arms on the desk and lowered his head into their comforting embrace.
Suddenly the phone rang and he was startled to alertness; then it rang again, the noise like a piercing, explosive, needle in his brain. David snatched the phone off the receiver half-way through the third ring.
“What?” he snapped.
The voice on the other end was obviously distorted by some sort of device, it sounded like a monster was on the other end of the phone. “You sound tired David; still working on that big case?”
“You know it,” David said. “I’ve told you once already; all your warnings and threats won’t stop me. You’re going down.”
“I was really hoping you’d see things my way, David. now it’s too late for you… and your wife.”
David’s eyes flashed over to the stairs, at the top of which his beautiful wife slept peacefully. “You leave her out of this!”
“I’m sorry, David. For our purposes, what’s about to happen to her has become a necessary evil on our part.”
“Don’t you dare,” David growled.
“You’re not in a position to be making threats, David; Not in your situation.”
David shot to his feet, eyes darting wildly about the room. He didn’t notice the black-clad figure slip, so silently, into his study through the window behind him. Nor did he hear the knife being drawn out of the shadows. His only warning was a light tap on his right shoulder. In immediate reaction he whirled around to face the stranger. The knife came down and plunged into his shoulder; the pain, searing and terrible. The assailant was vicious; he pushed the wounded attorney onto the desk and pinned him there, stabbing again and again; in the chest and in the stomach. David tried to scream but his punctured lungs didn’t have the strength. The killer was murdering him with a primal fury.
Soon the abhorrent scene was complete. David lay sprawled over the desk; dead for certain. Blood was draining out of the dozens of holes in his body and onto the papers. The assailant stared at the display for a long moment, then pulled a bottle of oil out of his garments and squeezed the liquid onto the desk. He also proffered a matchbook; striking a match, the killer tossed it onto the desk. The desk, with all the papers and photos, set ablaze immediately in a brilliant flash of flame. The fire moved onto David’s blood and crawled onto his clothes. He was to be erased too.
The killer knew the fire wouldn’t go unnoticed for too long and promptly slipped back out the window.

David’s wife was awakened by the smell of smoke. She sat up in bed and took a couple precautionary sniffs. In the next moment she jumped out of bed and pulled on a silk robe. “David?” she called, drawing the bedroom door open.
She was met by the barrage of smoke the door was keeping at bay, so she covered her mouth and shuffled down the stairs. Her every thought revolved around whether or not David was safe. She turned the corner and moved into the study. There, revealed to her for hideous edification, was David’s body; burning on his desk. The fire had caught onto the drapes and was spreading to the rest of the house. Three heaving breaths escaped her mouth, and then Laurel let out a horrible, shrieking scream.

1)
“La luna del cacciatore.”

5 miles outside of Camden, New Jersey
July, 2007
1:38 am

Enter a loud New Jersey bar; it’s smoky from the cigarettes of a dozen addicted patrons. Billy Idol’s “White Wedding” plays on the juke box in the corner and a few Camden County College alumni are getting drunk and playing pool. A messy-haired man in a beat up leather jacket and jeans in his mid-to-late thirties is hunched over the bar.
“You want something new, or are you stickin’ with water?” the bartender grabbed the glass from in front of the messy-haired stranger and wiped it down for the fourth time. He’d been serving the stranger free glasses of water for almost an hour now and was getting fed up. The bartender was an out of shape old man with short, grey hair, and a beer gut of sorts.
The stranger didn’t answer. He continued to stare at his reflection in the shiny oak counter top; just waiting. He could hear the college students spew vulgar phrase after vulgar phrase. He didn’t know how the bartender could put up with it.
“I smelled like shit for a week after that!” one in a red shirt said.
It caused the stranger to let out a long, exasperated sigh that made the stranger sound like a deflating tire.
They continued on in this manner for some time. Finally one in a college sweater shouted, “Hey, look at this fuckin’ guy!”
“Holy shit!” Another one in a blue shirt moved up behind the stranger. “Check out his hair! He must have been here all night!” The kid put his hand on the stranger’s hair and tousled it with his fingers.
Reed smacked his hand away. “Hey! Don’t touch me!”
All three of them let out a mocking “Oooooohhh” simultaneously.
The one in the blue shirt took it farther. “Looks like we got an angry drunk!”
Reed and the bartender exchanged looks; Reed’s one of angry exasperation and the bartender’s one of concern… for his bar.
Red shirt leaned over to College sweater’s ear. “Ya know, as drunk as this guy is, we could probably take him for all he’s worth!”
“Yeah, letsh do it,” the other slurred in agreement.
“Do you play?” Red shirt indicated the pool table with his stick.
Reed nodded. “Yes.”
“For skins?”
“You can’t gamble in here!” the bartender shouted.
“Shut up old man!” Blue shirt yelled back.
The bartender obeyed reluctantly. You never know what a drunk man is capable of.
After a moment Reed said, “I don’t have any money.”
“Well then how about that cool jacket you got on?” College sweater put in.
“Heh heh, yeah and your shoes!”
“And that belt!”
Reed nodded. “Fine.”
“Alright,” Red shirt smiled. “We’ll each put down ten bucks and you put down all those. It’s us versus you.”
Reed heaved himself off the stool and grabbed a pool stick off the rack. As he was chalking up the pool stick he turned away from them and smiled. Beating a bunch of kids at pool wouldn’t be hard; especially a bunch of drunken college kids who were operating under the idea that he was drunk and they weren’t.
The order would be Red shirt, then Reed, Blue shirt, then Reed, and College sweater, then Reed; just to be fair.
Red shirt’s break; he leaned over the table with his pool stick off center and hit the cue ball as hard as he could. It shot into the set off pool balls and they flew off in different directions. Amidst all the movement, Reed saw the 9-ball roll into a corner pocket.
“Hoo-yeah!” Red shirt whooped. “We’re solids!”
He leaned back over the table and tried to strike at the cue ball but only managed to brush it. The ball spun about an inch.
“Looks like you got a chance; if you can see straight.” Blue shirt laughed.
Reed studied the table for a moment; then leaned over to the cue ball. He hit it into the wall. It bounced off and struck the ten-ball; knocking it into a corner pocket. The kids scoffed but moved uneasily.
“Lucky shot,” one said.
Reed moved around the table and hit the two-ball directly into the side pocket.
“That one was easy.”
Reed continued to knock balls into the pockets, soon the four-and-six-balls were gone too. On the twelve-ball shot, Reed got it in the hole but had to knock a solid in too.
“My turn,” Blue shirt said; moseying over to the table.
He bent down to take a shot; but wavered in place for a moment, then simply fell to the floor.
“Well,” Reed said, “looks like it’s not his turn after all. 8-ball, corner pocket.” Reed proceeded to knock the ball in with ease.
Reed leaned on the table and held his hand out. “Ten bucks.”
The two kids still conscious dug into their pockets and proffered ten dollar bills. Reed didn’t care about the rest of the money the unconscious one owed him; he just sat back down at the bar.
“Now I’ll have a drink,” he said.
The bartender smiled. “What’s your poison?”
“Scotch.” Reed rubbed his forehead.
The bartender grabbed a bottle of Highland Park off the back counter and poured a little bit into a small shot glass. Reed handed over some of his winnings and drank the shot slowly; trying to pick out individual tastes as the whole of the vile liquid slid over his tongue. As he was drinking the bartender broke the ten dollar bill and handed Reed his change. After Reed was finished with the shot he popped the shot glass back onto the counter and stuffed the money into his back pocket.
“I’ll have another,” Reed breathed.
As the bartender refilled the glass, one of the college kids said, “I’ll see you about your money, dude. Let’s go again.” It was clearly about more than money this time.
“Haven’t you lost enough?” Reed asked, raising the glass to his lips. “I’ve taken all I need from you.”
“You son of a bitch.” Red shirt grumbled.
Just then, Reed saw a look of terror flash on the bartender’s face. Reed instinctively ducked; pressing his head against the top of the counter. He could hear the swift whoosh of the pool stick tearing through the air above him as it swept over his head. After it passed, Reed spun around on the stool and punched Red shirt in the gut; causing him to double over and drop the stick. Reed didn’t want to drop his drink so he uppercut him in the face with the same hand. Red shirt stumbled backward and fell on his back.
Upon standing, Reed was tackled against the bar by College sweater. Reed felt the lip of the counter dig into his spine and he let out a loud groan. The drink almost spilled too. Reed took a second to set the drink down while the kid hunched down and started punching him in the ribs. With the drink safe, Reed pounded his fist hard on the back of the kid’s neck. The kid shouted in pain and took a step back to massage the area. Reed propped himself up on the counter and dropkicked him in the chest. The kid tumbled backwards and fell against a table; knocking it over on his way to the floor. The four people sitting at it jumped out of their chairs and backed away; shouting surprised expletives.
Red shirt had gotten up and rushed at Reed, a crude battle cry escaping his lips. Reed quickly adjusted and elbowed him in the nose. The boy drew back; holding it as it began to gush blood. Reed kicked him in the stomach and struck him on the back of the head in two swift motions.
College sweater got back to his feet and rushed at Reed again. Reed sighed and rolled his eyes. Then he noticed Red shirt’s pool stick on the floor. He scooped his foot up under it and kicked it at College sweater. He stopped to shield his face and the pool stick bounced off harmlessly but the hesitation gave Reed just enough time to grab one of the bar stools by the legs and swing it as hard as he could. The stool smashed across the kid’s head and the kid fell onto a table; unconscious. The kid in the red shirt fought to gain his footing and staggered, deliriously, toward Reed. He used the counter to steady himself. As he moved he reached out and grabbed the air as if Reed were closer. Reed snatched up the whisky sitting peacefully on the counter and fired it down; then smashed it over the boy’s head. The strike was insignificant but the boy still toppled against the bar.
Reed arched his back and cracked his spine; letting out a pleasurable grunt. He then turned to the bartender and reached behind himself; slipping his hand under his jacket. The bartender dropped the tray he was holding and began scrabbling behind the counter for his revolver. He couldn’t find it!
Reed calmly pulled out a wad of bills and threw some of them on the counter. “For the whisky,” he said.
Reed walked out the front door and into the cool night air. Once the door was closed, Reed rubbed his ribs and other tender areas. He took a second to look up at the moon. It was large and shone brightly in the starry night.
“La luna del cacciatore,” he muttered.
Reed continued out across the parking lot in silence; staring down at the ground as it passed under his feet. He was pondering why he was taking so long getting out of Jersey. He hated it here. The culture appeared to be stuck in the 80’s. Of course, with Reed’s taste in cars and music he really couldn’t judge people for liking old things. Still, most of the people were either the really pissy kind of mean, or the creepy, take-a–fruitcake-over-to-your-neighbor kind of nice. Reed blew out a bunch of air and dismissed the thoughts; stepping out onto the empty road.
Reed walked along the long stretch of highway for some minutes before coming to the Whyndam Hotel where he was staying. As he was crossing the parking lot, a sedan pulled in and crossed his path on the way to its spot. A nearly middle-aged woman was driving and her young daughter was in the back. As Reed waited patiently for the vehicle to pass, he saw them both turn to look at him on their way by. Their expressions were cold, judgmental stares. What was no more than two seconds felt like an eternity to him. He didn’t know why people had to look at him like that. Did he really look so detestable? Why couldn’t they just mind their own damn selves?
The vehicle passed and Reed was allowed to continue on his way. He went inside and passed the clerk on his way upstairs. To compound Reed’s frustration with his inability to leave the state, he’d actually paid for a two day stay; which had eaten up the rest of his money. This was his second day.
He went into his room on the second floor and immediately opened the window. Then he removed all of his old clothes and placed them all on the sill. He hadn’t brought any changes of clothing and was hoping the clean air would help with the smell.
Reed sighed, moseyed around the room for a moment, and then fell onto the bed. He would call Devlin at his garage later and tell him to bring a car. He was going to leave tomorrow; for sure.

2)
“I didn’t kill anybody!”

Reed woke up the following morning when his alarm went off at 10:00. He was still a little tired and it took a bit of self encouragement to get up. As he sat up in the bed, he realized that he was sweating profusely. It was a hot day and he had started sweating as he slept. Reed got up and retrieved his clothes. The sun wasn’t hitting them and they had lost none of the frigidness of the cold night. The change in temperature was nice as he slipped them on but they still smelled funky. Only now they also possess the overly fresh scent of morning air. Reed didn’t complain though. The room didn’t care about his problems.
Reed left the room and locked the door behind him. As he was turning he noticed the two girls from last night walking down the hall toward him. It took all of his strength to pretend that he didn’t see them. He tried to look as casual as possible as he turned and walked the opposite direction down the hall; while in his mind, he was running as hard as he could.
When he got to the front desk, he slid his key across the counter top and quickly slipped on his sunglasses. As the two passed behind him he imagined them still burning a hole in his back with their eyes. The supposedly innocent little girl was judging his merit; and how dangerous he could potentially be to her. He just wanted to turn and scream that he wasn’t going to hurt her. Reed cursed himself for his weakness. How could a little girl instill so much shame in him?
“Thank you for staying at The Whyndam!” the clerk smiled.
Reed didn’t say anything in response. He just walked away. What was he supposed to say anyway? You’re welcome?
He walked through the parking lot and onto the bare shoulder of the road. The long stretch of road ahead and the sun beating down so fiercely made him sigh before starting his journey. After roughly twenty minutes of walking, Reed took off his jacket and slung it over his shoulder; pulling his shirt over the gun in his belt to hide it. Reed then pulled out his cell phone and dialed the garage’s number.
Devlin was waxing the royal blue, 1969 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray when the phone rang. The phone that rang was Reed’s private line that only Reed and Angela knew the number of so he dropped what he was doing straightaway and snatched up the phone. At three-thousand bucks a month he was expected to jump to whatever whim that they ordered him to fulfill. Devlin was slightly chubby with serious five-o’-clock shadow and a thick mustache. He liked to wear Hawaiian style shirts.
“Angela, for the last time! There is no way I can put Nitrous Oxide in your Bug! Reed specifically forbade it!” Devlin yelled.
“This isn’t Angela, Devlin.” Reed said flatly.
“Oh, Reed. What can I do for ya?” Devlin scratched his stubble.
“I need a car delivered to New Jersey.” Reed continued to walk.
“Where?” Devlin asked.
“Camden.”
“Okay, but where?”
“I don’t know where exactly yet. Just get a car here.”
“Which one? Do you want me to bring anything extra?”
“Yeah, I’ll need a set of clothes and some money... a thousand.”
“Um, Reed, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you keep everything locked up; your safe and your safe house.” Devlin said.
“There’s a pack of bills in one of my top desk drawers and… well, forget the clothes!” Reed shouted with impatience. The heat was making him irritable.
“Okay, hang on a second.” The phone was one of the old wire connected ones; so Devlin dropped the receiver and weaved through the dozens of cars on his way over to Reed’s desk in the corner. He opened one of the drawers and found the stack of money wrapped up in a rubber band sitting right on top of everything else. He grabbed it, closed the drawer again and walked back over to the phone.
He picked the receiver back up and said, “Yeah I got the money; now which car?”
Suddenly a brown Oldsmobile sped by Reed with several police cars in pursuit. The noise from the sirens forced Reed to pause until they passed. The last squad car in the pursuit team pulled up alongside Reed, though.
“Hold on a second,” Reed said.
“Do ya need a ride?” the cop asked.
“No, I’ll be fine,” Reed answered.
“It’s mighty hot out here. Come on, I’ll take you to into town.”
Suddenly an idea struck Reed and he brought the phone back up to his ear. “Bring the black 1970 Plymouth Barracuda convertible to…” he took a second to read the policeman’s precinct, “the Camden police station; second precinct.”
“The Cuda? Expecting trouble?”
“Yes,” Reed answered coolly.
Devlin grabbed a pad of paper and wrote everything down. “…Okay, I’ll be there in a few hours.”
“Good,” Reed said, hanging up the phone.
Reed bent down to open the front passenger door but the officer stopped him.
“Sorry, you’re gonna have to get in the back.”
“Why?” Reed puzzled.
“The front’s for officers only,” the cop answered.
This was highly irregular and Reed knew it. Why did he stop in the middle of a pursuit just to talk to him? Did this guy recognize him? What was his game?
“I’m sorry; I didn’t get your name,” Reed said.
“Oh, I’m Officer Hutchison; Tom Hutchison.” He stretched his hand out the window.
Reed reached down and shook his hand. He didn’t think he knew the name.
“I’m Reed,” he said.
“Nice to meet ya Reed,” he smiled. “So you want that ride?”
Reed hesitated for a moment, and then said, “Yeah.”
He opened the back seat door and slid into the seat; closing the secure door behind him. As they were driving, Reed continued to try and remember if he’d seen the cop before. He couldn’t pull up the memory if he had. In fact, the officer looked very plain to Reed. He was built like a cop. He possessed the mildly athletic form of a cop used to being on the beat. His red hairline was in an advanced stage of recession; and like all the other cops in this state (who again, appeared to be stuck in the eighties) had a bushy mustache growing on his tough face.
“So where ya from Reed?” the officer suddenly asked.
“New York,” Reed answered cautiously.
“Got a last name?”
“Yes,” Reed said; pulling his jacket back on.
“…Well, what is it?” Hutchison laughed.
“Smith.”
“Okay; fine. I guess you don’t have to tell me.”
In no time they were in the city. As they were coming down the final street before the police station, Reed noticed a large congregation of news reporters and cameras standing on the front steps. Reed looked at his watch and set the alarm to go off at one o’ clock in the afternoon
“What’s going on?” Reed asked; then.
“Oh, they’re here to see if we caught the guy who killed our assistant district attorney,” Hutchison answered.
“…Did you?”
The officer didn’t answer.
Hutchison pulled up right in front of the group and got out. He walked around to the back of the car and opened Reed’s door. Reed didn’t get out, though.
“Come on, kid!” Hutchison yelled over the clamor.
Reed shook his head. “I don’t want to go out there with all those cameras.”
“Get out here!” Hutchison yelled; grabbing Reed by the arm and yanking him out of the car.
He pinned Reed’s arm behind his back and began pushing him up the stairs!
“Hey! What are you doing? What is this? Let me go!” Reed shouted.
The cameras started flashing in rapid succession and the noise in the area rose drastically.
Through all of the clamor Reed heard a reporter ask, “Why did you kill the Assistant D.A.?”
“What?” Reed shrieked in disbelief.
Hutchison proceeded to shove Reed up the stairs, and soon the front door was shut behind them.
“I didn’t kill anybody!” Reed shouted.
“Alright kid, don’t make this harder on yourself,” Hutchison said as some lawyers passed by.
He led Reed down the halls until finally they were at the holding cells.
Hutchison said, “Open cell 6,” to the man in the security booth at the front door to the cell block.
The man pushed a button in front of him and the security door that led to the cells buzzed and drew itself open. Hutchison pushed Reed down the hall.
A woman was waiting silently in the cell next to the one that was to be Reed’s. She was petite with wavy, golden hair. She was wearing a pink, silk robe and her hair was a little messy as if she just woke up. She appeared to be absent-mindedly staring at her fuzzy slippers.
The cop shoved Reed into his holding cell. Reed had to make a real effort not to come bouncing off the back wall and slug the cop for this outrage. He simply turned and gave Hutchison a cold stare.
Hutchison tipped his head over to his shoulder radio and said, “Close Cell 6.”
The cell slid shut immediately; and Hutchison stabbed a finger at Reed. “Sit down and keep your mouth shut!” He walked back down the hall and Reed heard the security door close.
Reed let out a big sigh and moseyed around the cell for a couple seconds; thinking of ways to get out of this. He sat down on the cot and looked across at the beautiful woman in the next cell. She didn’t appear to notice him.
“So what are you in for?” Reed asked casually.
The prisoner in cell 7 didn’t answer; she just kept staring at the cement floor.
Suddenly Reed felt a powerful sensation. It was so sudden that his eyes widened and he sat bolt upright. The woman noticed the sudden motion and her head snapped over to look at him.
“Is everything alright?” she asked.
“No, it’s just…I kind of have to go to the bathroom really bad,” Reed smiled.
She smiled too. “And you don’t wanna do it in front of me.”
“No, I was just questioning its prudence,” Reed said.
“It’s fine; I won’t look.” the prisoner in cell 7 turned away slightly.
“Right.” Reed turned to the toilet and unzipped his pants. In moments the distinct echo of a liquid hitting liquid filled the hall.
The prisoner in cell 7 wasn’t a perfect lady; she turned her head and snuck a coy peek at Reed. He was turned away but she still smiled; more at her own lack of self control than what she saw as she turned her head back.
Reed finished and zipped up his pants. He flushed the toilet and walked over to the partition that separated him from her; leaning an arm up against the bars. The woman turned back toward him; the smile not completely gone.
“So what did you do?” Reed asked again.
Her smile faded, completely this time. “Nothing,” she said; hanging her head.
“Yeah, okay,” Reed muttered.
To the prisoner in cell 7 it didn’t appear as if he believed her. She didn’t know his circumstance. “Really! Okay; so what are you here for?”
Reed scoffed. “I really didn’t do anything. I was walking into town when that cop offered me a ride; next thing I know I’m accused of killing an assistant district attorney!”
The woman’s face changed from despair to shock. “Oh my god.”
“I didn’t kill him,” Reed put in.
“No; I know! That’s why I’m here!” she hissed.
“You killed him?”
“No, the cops killed him!” she exploded, suddenly passionate and erratic. “My husband was working on a case involving police corruption in the second precinct. He found evidence that some of the cops in the precinct were planning a big money making racket so they could quit the force; and sure enough, four police men have taken early retirements in the last month! David almost had everything in order when someone snuck into our house last night and stabbed him to death! They set his desk with all of his evidence on fire with him on it; hoping to cover up the fact that it was a murder, but they didn’t have the coroner on their payroll and he noticed immediately that David had been stabbed. So now their plan is to fabricate some evidence that would indicate my entirely made up boyfriend and I conspired to kill him so we could be together. They also found someone to play that role.”
Reed tensed up…it was him. He thought for a little while then asked, “But…how do you know all of that?”
The prisoner in cell 7 rubbed her eyes. “After I gave my account of what happened and the coroner had given us the news of the knife wounds, I was sitting outside my home and overheard two of them talking about it. Eventually they noticed me. I ran to my car and got out of there as fast as I could.”
“That was you the cops were chasing! You were in the Oldsmobile!” Reed interjected.
Her face brightened, “Yeah, and you were talking on your phone on the side of the road! I saw you!”
Reed smiled and stretched his hand between the bars; having found common ground. “I’m Reed Newton.”
She took his hand in hers. Reed was immediately taken with how soft it was. It made him feel self-conscious about how his rough and calloused hands must have felt on her hand.
She simply smiled her warm smile and said, “Laurel.”
‘Laurel’ Reed repeated the name in his mind. It was a beautiful name in an old-fashioned kind of way; and Reed liked that.

3)
“Do yourself a favor; don’t scream.”

After a long while of silence, Laurel sniffled and choked out the words, “Well, I guess this is the end for us, isn’t it?”
“Not for me,” Reed said flatly; reaching under his jacket and pulling out his nine millimeter semi-automatic pistol. He ejected the clip and peeked inside; it was full with ten bullets worth of pure escape potential.
Laurel looked over at what he was doing. “Where did you get that?” she hissed.
Reed shoved the magazine back into place; glanced at her; looked back at the gun and said, “Cop didn’t bother to frisk me; and if he had he’d have a real reason to keep me in here.”
“What? Is it illegal?” Laurel asked.
Reed gave her another cool glance, “If by illegal you mean without registration in the New Jersey court system, then the answer is yes; but if you mean illegal as in I don’t have a permit to carry, then the answer is actually also yes.”
“So why do you have it?” she just couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that this nice guy she was framed up with was, in fact, a career criminal.
Reed simply said, “Condom,” and slipped the firearm back into its resting place tucked into the back of his belt.
Laurel’s face contorted into one of utter confusion. “Condom?” she repeated.
Suddenly there was the sound of the security door at the end of the hall buzzing open and the furious, repetitive thudding of men in boots filing down the hall. Reed could see them now; three police men. Hutchison was with them. The other two Reed didn’t know. The one at the head of the group was clean-shaven with moderately long brown hair and a light build. Reed glimpsed his name tag on the way by; it read “Davis.” The other cop, walking alongside Hutchison, was stone-faced and had very short, jet black hair and a thick black mustache. His aviator sunglasses made him look like a motorcycle cop. The light reflected off his name tag at just the right angle so that Reed only saw what he believed to be an “h.”
Suddenly the door on Laurel’s cell slid open and the group stopped just outside it, “You’re coming with us,” Hutchison said to her.
Laurel pressed herself up against the back wall. “Where?” she asked.
Hutchison smiled. “Well, because the assistant D.A. worked for the city, it’s been deemed a conflict of interest; so your case is being moved to Atlantic City.”
“Thus severing all connections you have with the case,” Reed put in.
“No one was talking to you boy!” the motorcycle cop yelled.
“That was fast. So what do you plan on doing about him?” Laurel asked; indicating Reed.
“We’ll take care of your boyfriend later,” Davis said.
“I’m not going,” Laurel said; hoping it sounded brave.
Hutchison got red-faced and stomped into the cell; growling out the words, “Oh yes, you are!” He grabbed Laurel by the arm and pulled her out of the cell. His grip caused Laurel to cry out in pain. Davis snapped cuffs on her and they proceeded to drag her down the hall.
“Reed!” she called.
Reed got angry. He grabbed the bars of his cell and shook them, “Don’t take her! You fucking cops! I’ll kill you for this!”
The motorcycle cop pulled out his pepper spray and sprayed it directly into Reed’s eyes. Reed recoiled and fell up against the back wall; his eyes watering. The pain was excruciating.
Hutchison and Davis looked back to see what was going on.
“Go on; you guys. I’ll take care of him,” the motorcycle cop said.
The two continued out the door, and cell 7 shut soon after.
“I don’t think you know what’s about to happen to you, boy,” the cop started. “I’m gonna shoot you in there; and then plant a gun on you and tell everyone it was self defense. But you piss me off anymore, and I’ll beat you down all day long. Don’t make this harder on yourself.”
“I already have a gun,” Reed muttered.
“What’s that?”
Suddenly Reed lunged at the cop; shoving one of his hands through the bars and wrapping it around the cop’s head, pinning him to the cell. He then pulled his gun out and jammed it into the cop’s ribs.
“I already have a gun,” Reed growled, “Do yourself a favor; don’t scream.”
“Why would I?” the motorcycle cop asked. “For all I know you could be threatening me with a highlighter!”
Reed shoved the gun up between their faces and said, “Look like a gun to you, chump?” through his teeth.
Reed moved the gun back to the cop’s ribs. “Now are you going to cooperate?”
The cop was silent for a minute; considering his options, “…What do you want?”
Reed let him go and backed into the cell; gun still trained on the officer. “Tell the guy to open the cell.”
Reed’s vision was clearing and he could see the officer’s name plate now. It read; “Smith.”
Smith cocked his head over to his radio and said, “Open cell 6.”
The door immediately opened and Reed stepped out.
“Alright, cowboy. How do you plan on getting out of here with that gun on me?” Smith asked.
Reed switched the gun from his right hand to his left hand and slipped his jacket off. He took his jacket and hung it on his arm; covering the gun.
“Now lead me out of here,” Reed said. “I made bail, got it?”
Smith grabbed Reed by the right arm and began leading him down the hall. The man in the booth saw them coming and buzzed the door open. They passed by without a word.
The halls were, of course, crawling with cops. Reed’s heart was beating faster and faster the closer they got to the front lobby. Every time a cop brushed past or shot Reed a look he became increasingly afraid of a bloody police shootout; but each one went by with no questions asked.
They got to the front lobby; and it was full of people. Cops ran every which way; people with their various complaints barked at a desk sergeant; a woman gave a description to a police sketch artist; and several desk cops were trying to do their work in the middle of it all.
“Keep moving,” Reed said through his teeth; poking the business end of the pistol into Smith’s side.
Everything was going well. The two were just shuffling their way through the rush of people; when suddenly--
“Where you taking him, Smith?” A desk worker had noticed them and remembered Reed coming in.
“He made bail,” Smith said flatly; pushing his way through the commotion as best he could.
“Really?” The man looked over his papers. “I didn’t get that memo.”
“Damn it, Kowalski, get your shit together!” Smith was performing exceedingly well.
After the serious chewing out from Smith, Kowalski put his head down and went back to his papers.
Reed and Smith finally reached the front door and pushed their way out into the bright sunlight.
“There. Now I’m leaving,” Smith said; turning away.
Reed grabbed his arm; and once again threatened him with the gun, “No; you’re coming with me.”
Smith started yelling. “But I got you out here!”
“Yes; and now you’re going to show me where the car park is,” Reed ordered.
Smith stared at Reed for long moment. “You just met the girl. Why do you care about her?”
“Because she doesn’t deserve what you dickheads are about to do to her!” Reed roared back.
Smith was breathing heavily. He didn’t appreciate being yelled at. He stood there, fuming; looking dead into Reed’s eyes and Reed looking into his with the same ferocity.
Smith gave up on reasoning with Reed and turned away; walking down the sidewalk. Reed followed. They rounded the corner and the car exit became immediately visible. They turned and walked onto the ramp which read: NOT A WALKING LANE. The power saver lights flickered on at their presence and they continued down into the parking lot.
The two came out of the exit ramp and immediately spotted Hutchison and Davis among the multitude of cars. Hutchison was sitting in the front seat; and Davis was lowering a very dismayed Laurel into the back. Davis noticed Reed and Smith coming toward them as he shut the door.
“What are you doing with him; Smith?” he asked.
“Davis, you should leave,” Smith tried to warn him.
“What are you talking about?” Davis didn’t even have an inkling that anything could have gone wrong.
Without warning, Reed pointed the gun at Smith’s leg and fired a single bullet into it. Smith screamed in agony and grabbed the area. Reed elbowed Smith in the face and he fell on his back.
Davis reached for his gun and Reed quickly popped two into his chest. Davis fell back against the open driver’s side door with gun in hand. Hutchison started clambering out of the driver’s seat; struggling with his holster. Reed shot at him and it tore a straight line in the skin on his shoulder. Hutchison reeled back into the seat and put pressure on the area.
Reed pulled his jacket off his arm and slipped it onto his back; returning the gun into his jeans. He power-walked over to the rear door and tore it open. Laurel was curled up in the fetal position on the seat; covering her ears.
“Laurel!” Reed yelled; reaching in and putting his hand on her shoulder.
She uncovered her ears and looked up. “Reed?”
Reed held his hand out to her. “We have to get out of here!”
Laurel grabbed his hand and he helped her out. When she saw all the downed cops she freaked.
“What? Reed, did you shoot them?” she squeaked.
“Come on!” Reed pulled her along; trying to get her to run.
“But Reed-!”
Smith tried to move through the pain. He slowly unclipped his holster and drew his gun. He aimed up at the two running perpetrators and fired a few pot shots; missing completely. The bullets screamed into the ceiling above the two. Laurel shrieked and covered her head. Reed continued to frantically pull her up the ramp. He really couldn’t figure out why, when bullets were being fired at her; that her plan of action was to stop instead of run. Soon they were up the ramp and out of Smith’s line of sight.
Smith threw his gun to the floor and called into his radio. “This is Officer Frederick Smith reporting a police shooting in the second precinct car garage; officers down.”
The response from Dispatch came swiftly. “Officer, say again; the second precinct car garage?”
“Yes goddammit!” Smith yelled. “Send an EMT!”
“Roger that.”
Smith rolled over and crawled to the police car. He quickly examined Davis’s bullet wounds and checked his pulse; he was dead.
Hutchison was still holding his shoulder inside the car. “How is he?”
“He’s dead,” Smith said flatly.
“Shit,” Hutchison breathed. “That guy was fast.”
“Stop whining,” Smith growled. “We’ll get him. Right now we just have to get our story straight for when the others arrive.”

4)
“Reed Newton? Is that the guy’s name?”

Despite all of Reed’s precautions, he had been made. Matthew Brice, a New York native and New Jersey detective had recognized Reed from his extensive news coverage and took an interest. Matt had a soft face that made him kook younger than he was; matted brown/black hair and dark blue eyes. He went to the cell block but found Reed’s cell empty; of course. He had just made his escape. When the guard in the booth told Matt not to bother, that Officer Smith had already escorted the prisoner out, he was thoroughly dismayed. He scratched his head and walked back to the lobby.
Matt was undaunted as he went to the prisoner record manager, his good friend Jessop Kowalski, for some answers.
“Hey Jess; do you know why Officer Smith took Reed Newton out of his cell?” he asked.
“Reed Newton? Was that the guy’s name?”
“Yes,” Matt answered. “So do you know?”
Kowolski scoffed. “Yeah they walked right past here. Smith said the perp had made bail; but I didn’t get that memo. When I asked him about it he bit my head off; telling me to find it, then he just left with Reed. I still can’t find any record of bail being posted.”
Matt let out big, exasperated sigh. “So, he’s gone.”
“Yeah.”
Matt was about to leave but, being a detective, he had weighed the evidence and had considered the worst of possibilities. What if Reed and Smith were working in tandem? With Reed Newton’s reputation Matt really couldn’t put it past him; and Smith wasn’t exactly the nicest guy in the world either.
“Did Smith say where he was going?” Matt asked.
“No; he just left.”
“Crap,” Matt breathed.
Suddenly one of the sergeants started yelling. “Quiet! Quiet! Everyone shut up!”
Matt knew the sergeant. It was Wolfgang Nitch; a good man. Whatever he had to say had to be important.
Finally the room fell silent. The only sound that remained was a dispatch lady’s voice over the radio. “Attention all units; reported police shooting in the second precinct car garage; officers down; repeat, officers down.”
After a moment of shocked hesitation, the sergeant ran for the front door and a few other armed officers followed; including Matt. A few unintelligent ones made for the elevators.
Matt and the gang of cops ran around the corners and rushed to the exit ramp. A crowd of people had heard the gunshots and had gathered around the entrance; gazing down into the abyss.
Sergeant Nitch started shouting and pushing people out of the way. “All right, move out of the way! Police coming through! Jesus Christ. Who would shoot at cops in the police station parking lot!”
Matt was almost right behind him now. He began briefly glancing at the faces of all the shamelessly curious bystanders as they turned away from the hole. Among them were a short, fat woman, a tall man in a suit, a mother and her kids, a messy-haired man in a jacket, a beautiful blonde woman, two twins, and a mailman. Soon the sergeant had paved the way to the ramp and the squad charged down to the parking lot. They all split up at the bottom and took up tactical positions around pillars and such.
Eventually Smith yelled, “He’s gone you idiots! Help us!”
All of the confused policemen came out from behind the pillars and took stupefied looks around before holstering their guns. Then they ran over to the injured officers.
Smith and Hutchison were sitting up against the cop car; holding their various damaged body parts.
“Oh my god, Davis,” Nitch gasped at the sight of Davis’ already pale skin. He knew Davis couldn’t possibly still be alive but still checked his pulse for certification.
“What happened here?” Matt asked.
Smith shot him a look and said, “Hutchison and Davis here were moving Laurel Jacobs to Atlantic City. I was questioning the other suspect when he pulled out a gun and threatened me to take him out of the police station. He threatened my family, Brice!” Smith squealed. “I had to do it! He made me take him down here and then he just started shooting! He killed Davis; grabbed his girlfriend, and left!”
“How did he get a gun?” Matt shouted.
Here Hutchison had to do his part. “I—didn’t bother to frisk him when I brought him in.”
To Matt this was ridiculous. “Wha--?”
Nitch interrupted with the matter at hand. “Which way did he go?”
Smith flung his arm up and pointed at the ramp. “He ran up that way not one minute ago!”
All of the cops looked around at each other. Finally Nitch said, “I didn’t see him.”
“How could anyone make it out of here without being seen by that mob of people out there?” another cop asked.
“Maybe they didn’t,” Nitch put in; turning to some cops. “Ask around up there! Let no one leave until you’ve questioned everybody!”
The officers complied; running toward the ramp.
Matt was quiet; thinking about all the people in the crowd. Suddenly he sighed and slapped his hand on his forehead. “I saw them.”

The messy-haired man and the blonde woman suddenly detached from the group and walked away down the sidewalk.
“That was close,” Laurel whispered.
“Yeah; just keep moving,” Reed replied.
They walked down the streets for no more than twenty minutes; silent and with their heads down. Finally Reed turned them into an alley.
“Oh my god. We’re in big trouble,” Laurel said, lowering herself to sit against the side of the alley.
Reed took a couple glances around and then said, “Alright, good luck.” He offered up a short wave goodbye and turned to leave.
Laurel quickly struggled to her feet. “Wait! Where are you going?”
Reed looked back at her. “I’m going back to New York. We can’t be seen together anyways, so you should find someplace to hide for yourself, too.”
Laurel was outraged at Reed’s sudden apathy. “But what about them? We need to clear our names; and they deserve justice!”
Reed got angry too. “Justice? Whose justice? David’s? He’s dead; he doesn’t care anymore! Admit it Laurel; it’s your justice! You want revenge!” Reed turned and began walking out of the alley again.
Laurel was quiet for an agonizingly long time. Finally she yelled, “Yes.”
Reed stopped just at the end of the alley and turned around. “Yes, what?”
“Yes. It’s true,” Laurel squeaked.
Reed stomped toward her. “What’s true, Laurel? Say it!”
“I want revenge!” she screamed. “They took everything from me and I want to make them pay!”
Reed was quiet for a time; simply studying her face. The only noise in the alley was Laurel’s rapturous breathing.
“Okay,” Reed said; soothingly, now. “You’re going through an experience that will challenge you. Maybe you’ll come out the other side more human.”
Laurel sniffled and moaned; then grabbed Reed around the waist and hugged him for comfort. Reed wrapped his arms around her too.
“It’ll be okay,” he whispered to her. “I’ll help.”
Laurel raised her head to look hopefully at Reed through tear drenched eyes. “Oh, you will? Thank you!” she screamed.
She put her hands on each side of Reed’s face and pulled him down to her lips. She kissed him. She just wanted to thank him at first; but she held him there. What was meant to be a quick kiss turned into something more; a sadness and a longing they both felt was revealed now for their mutual edification.
Reed was the one who finally pulled away. He knew that she was mourning and vulnerable and didn’t want to exploit it. After he did though, it seemed like a bad idea. The expression on her face was one of rejection and misunderstanding. Reed felt sorry for her.
After a long while of silence Reed said, “Do you know where we should go from here?”
Laurel’s expression was blank. “No, I don’t.”
“Did David have any back up files; anything hidden away just in case he would meet an unfortunate end?” Reed asked.
“I don’t think so,” Laurel mumbled.
“Well we need to start somewhere if we’re going to clear ourselves,” Reed said flatly. “Maybe your husband took the first step for us…. let’s go.”
Reed walked away and soon Laurel followed. “We’re going to walk?” she asked. “But… I’m still in my robe!”

Matt Brice was talking to Kowalski in Prisoner Management after the fiasco in the parking garage.
“So I guess Smith was legit after all,” Kowalski said.
“Why?” Matt asked. He was sitting on the desk.
Kowalski shot him an incredulous look. “Well, for one, that Reed guy shot him.”
“Yeah, in the leg,” Matt put in. “When he put two in Davis’ chest.”
“Whatever,” Kowalski waved him away. “This also just came from the District Attorney’s office.”
Kowalski handed Matt a paper that called for the immediate release of prisoner number 96438 “John Doe.”
“Geez,” Matt breathed.
“Brice!” Sergeant Nitch’s voice boomed over the other noises in the lobby.
Matt turned and saw him standing at the front door to his office. He motioned for Matt to come in. Matt slipped off the desk and walked over. Another officer, Officer Greenwich, closed the door behind him. Greenwich was a large black man with a big black mustache and sinewy arms. Sergeant Nitch looked a tad smaller in comparison with a brownish-red mustache of his own and a face mapped with worry lines that made him look older than he really was.
“You said you saw the perp on your way down to the garage, right?” Nitch’s rough voice was instantly official sounding.
“Yes sir,” Matt answered. “I didn’t recognize him at first. That’s why I didn’t apprehend him.”
“You recognize him now though? As in you’ve seen him before?” Nitch asked.
“Yes sir. As you know I’m from New York; and I’ve seen this guy several times on news broadcasts,” Matt said. “The man who referred to himself as Reed Smith to Officer Hutchison is really Reed Newton; a bank robber, among other things. I pulled up his file if you want to see it.”
“Where do you think they’d go next?” Nitch asked bluntly.
“Oh, I don’t know sir,” Matt shook his head. “They could be running for state borders right now. Then again, Newton could have an ulterior motive and they’re returning to Ms. Jacobs' house. I find it hard to believe this doesn’t have anything to do with money.”
Nitch stroked his mustache in thought. “Alright; get the file on Reed and bring it back here.”
Matt was visibly elated. “Alright, I’ll be back in just a second.” In another moment Matt had zipped out of the room.
The sergeant motioned to Greenwich. “Go check out the Jacobs residence.”
Without a word, Greenwich left.
Matt came bursting back in with an inch-thick file. “Reed Newton,” he announced; flopping the file onto the desk.
Nitch raised his eyebrows in surprise and he slipped on his glasses. “Is this all on Reed Newton?”
“Yes; and all of the cases he’s believed to be involved with,” Matt said. “But no one’s been able to pin them on him, exactly.”
Matt started giggling hysterically.
After Nitch opened the file he looked at Matt over the rims of his glasses and asked, “What’s so funny?”
“Smith and Hutchison really didn’t know what they were getting themselves into when they picked him up,” Matt chortled. “This guy’s the real deal; a genius. He’s done it all; robbery, murder, extortion, kidnapping; the list goes on and on. And he does them all with intelligence and precision. If I were to create the perfect criminal, this is the guy I’d create. You could leave this guy at the North Pole in a bikini and without his toothbrush and two weeks later he’d show up at your doorstep with a million-dollar smile and a score to settle.”

5)
“Are you some sort of killer?”

The sun was hot on the backs of Reed and Laurel. It had reached its zenith; telling Reed it was after noon. They’d been walking along South Broadway for more than an hour and Laurel was starting to lag behind.
“Come on. You can make it,” Reed encouraged half-heartedly.
“We’ve been walking for hours!” Laurel screamed.
“No we haven’t.” Reed ignored her plaintive cry.
Suddenly Laurel shouted, “Look, there’s Fairview Street! We’re almost there!”
Laurel quickened her pace and passed Reed. She turned left down the street and stopped in front of her house. Reed hadn’t changed his pace and caught up to her a minute later. The house was mostly black and half of it had collapsed while the fire ate its way through. Laurel sniffled again at the sight of her ruined house. Reed walked by her and ducked inside. Laurel’s eyes welled up but she followed nonetheless.
Reed entered what used to be the living room and tipped over the couch; then he stripped the bottom off and poked around inside. Laurel screamed and Reed immediately went for his gun.
“What are doing to my couch!” she yelled.
Reed sighed and brought his hand back from under his jacket. “Geez,” he breathed.
“I don’t think he could’ve hid something in my couch without my knowledge,” she said.
“Well, he did have a death sentence on him you didn’t know about,” Reed rebutted.
Laurel shook her head and peered around the room. Suddenly she let out an, “Ohh,” and moved to the other side.
Reed moved the couch back to its neutral position and started rifling through the bookshelf.
Laurel picked up a photo album off the floor and brushed off the ashes. Upon opening it she felt a fresh wave of emotion. She sat down on the couch and gazed thoughtfully at the pictures of her wedding.
She ran her hands along a head shot of David and said, “I guess we parted.”
Reed was getting furious at the apparent fruitlessness of this inquiry and was pacing around; uttering curse words from time to time.
Laurel continued to flip through the pages until she came to David’s private pictures. They were in an opaque package sealed with a small lock. Laurel smiled at fond memories and looked about the room. Maybe the key is still here.
Laurel stood and walked over to the fireplace. She reached into the back of the pit and pulled out the small brass object. She sat back down and stuck the key into the lock. Upon turning it, the lock snapped open. Laurel flipped open the book and began looking at each photo David took of her in all of her curvaceous glory.
As Reed was storming about the place in a whirlwind of evidential search and rescue he passed behind the couch and noticed what she was looking at. In spite of himself he let out a spontaneous, “Woah!”
Laurel immediately covered her nakedness with her hand. “Hey! Privacy Mister!”
“No; this!” Reed reached down and pulled a small, stainless steel security box out of a pouch in the back of the book.
Despite herself, Laurel was a little dismayed at Reed’s lack of interest in her body.
“Have you seen this before?” Reed asked.
Laurel shook her head. “No.”
“This is a high-tech portable security box.” Reed held the box out for her to see. “If I was going to hide something, it would be in here.”
“So, do we need a key?” Laurel asked.
“No; this one is more expensive than that. It’s locked with an audio password mechanism,” Reed mused. “Normally if I were to open this I’d get the guy who programmed it but someone took that opportunity from us.”
Laurel looked down at the floor; reminded once again that David died in a horrible murder.
Reed looked at her for a brief moment; then said, “Usually the password is something sentimental, so maybe you should try to open it.” He pushed the device into her hands.
Laurel was uncertain as she raised the speaker to her face. “Um…Laurel?...Law?...Umm…Football?...The Jets?”
The box was unresponsive.
“I don’t know,” she said finally.
“Alright,” Reed breathed. “We’ll keep trying; but we can’t stay here. Where does that coroner you mentioned work?”
“Um… Cooper University Hospital, I think,” Laurel answered.
“Okay, let’s go,” Reed said.
“Wait!” Laurel stopped him. “I want to change into some actual clothes before we go.”
Reed sighed, “Fine.”


Across the city, Devlin was cruising into town with a very bored Angela Cook in the passenger seat. Jimi Hendrix’s “Voodoo Child” was playing on the radio. Angela was singing along word for word.
“Well I stand up next to a mountain…and I chop it down with the edge of my hand! Hy-yah!” she sang, making a ferocious chopping motion. Of course she struck the dashboard and she screamed in pain. “Ohh! Ow that hurt!” she giggled.
Devlin shook his head.
Angela was a very beautiful girl. Her hair was a long and wavy brownish-black and her trademark pure white dresses accented her clear complexion and gave her an angelic radiance. She was the picture of innocence; unfortunately not so in reality. She stole often and conned several people out of thousands of dollars; including Reed once.
“Do you know where you’re going?” she asked as she rubbed her hand.
Devlin nodded. “Yes; we’re on North 3rd Street, and once we turn right we’ll be right there with Reed waiting for us.”
They did just so but found that Reed was not there. Devlin pulled into a spot in the parking lot and they got out.
“Well where is he?” Angela yelled.
“He’ll be here,” Devlin assured her.
Angela sat on the hood of the jet black Plymouth Barracuda and immediately jumped off; realizing how hot it was. “Damn it! Why does it have to suck here?”
“Angela don’t swear,” Devlin said.
“What do you care if I swear?” Angela asked in outrage.
“Reed told me to tell you not to,” Devlin immediately fessed up.
“What?” she shrieked. “Reed told you to censor me? That’s sick!”
Devlin merely shrugged. “Oh, and don’t start smoking either because I’ll take the cigarette right out of your mouth.”
Angela’s mouth gaped.

Officer Hutchison was staring out the window with his bullet-wounded shoulder covered by a large bandage. He didn’t bother to take injury leave because he wanted to make sure all of his boss’ plans were executed correctly. He saw the car and didn’t think anything of it at first but suddenly remembered what Reed was talking about on the phone when he picked him up.
“Sergeant!” Hutchison called.
Nitch shot him an irritated look. “What?”
“When I picked up that Newton guy, he said that a black Hemi Cuda convertible would stop by the police station. I think that’s it!” Hutchison pointed out the window.
Nitch hauled himself out from behind his desk and peeked out. After a long while he said, “Alright; let’s check it out.”
Nitch and Hutchison walked downstairs and went out to the parking lot. Angela and Devlin saw them coming and shot each other worried glances.
Devlin moseyed over to Angela nonchalantly and whispered in her ear. “We need to stall them until Reed gets here.”
Angela nodded.
Nitch waved to them pleasantly. “Hey there! Is this your car?”
Devlin shook his head. “No, this is…my friend’s car.”
Nitch nodded. “It’s cool. Could you give me a tour? Do ya know anything about it?”
Devlin smiled a big, goofy smile. “Do I know anything about it?” he repeated. “Hell yeah I know about it! I only practically made it from scratch with my own two hands!”
“Well alright. Show me around!” Nitch laughed casually.
Devlin leaned into the car and popped the hood. It opened and slowly eased into its upright position. Nitch took one look inside and whistled. Every part inside was shiny, brand new, and well oiled.
Devlin took out a piece of gum and tossed it into his mouth. Pointing directly to the engine, he started the tour he wanted to do since he conceived his “masterpiece.”
“Check this out; Ray Barton “B2” limited edition 572 HEMI engine, aluminum 4.500 bore block, aluminum headed intake and exhaust valves; hand finished by yours truly.”
“Nice,” Nitch nodded. “Then these aren’t stock parts I take it?”
“No way,” Devlin said. “You won’t find a Barracuda this high tech anywhere. Look, modified carburetors, custom forged pistons, steel race rods, and a custom magnesium intake manifold. This car has the output of a classic Cuda, but the fuel efficiency of a much more modern ride.”
“Do you have nitrous oxide in this beast?” Nitch asked.
Devlin scoffed, “No…ha ha ha!” He began laughing hysterically at the very notion. “With the torque this thing is already putting out, if you used Nos it would tear itself apart. You’d have to make it out of titanium just to not get yourself killed!”
Nitch held his hands up in mock defense. “Hey, my mistake! You sure do know a lot about cars.”
“Oh yeah,” Devlin smiled. “And all that stuff I mentioned is just the engine. The transmission is a T-56 ‘Tranzilla’ 1200 horsepower system, the tank is an 18 gallon NASCAR style fuel cell and the fuel line is stainless steel…”
Angela sat in the passenger seat and pretended to listen to what Devlin had to say as if she had any idea what he was talking about. Nitch didn’t seem suspicious of them but Hutchison wouldn’t take his eyes off her. She shifted nervously in the seat and decided to start fooling around in the glove box.


Laurel was changing in her room with Reed standing diligently outside the door. After combing her hair, Laurel took off her pink robe and tossed it onto a chair in front of her mirror. She slipped off her night gown; leaving her in only her white cotton panties, and then took a blue blouse and jeans out of her closet. When she moved back to the mirror she took a second to gaze at herself.
“I’m pretty right?” she asked herself. After another moment of consideration, she laughed at her conceit and began pulling on her jeans.
Reed was just cleaning his fingernails with his bottom canine teeth when he heard the distinct sound of a car pulling into the driveway of the house. Reed leaned over the banister for a look—and sure enough, he saw the hood and headlights of a car that wasn’t in the driveway before. Soon there was the sound of a car door opening and closing.
Reed had to move quickly. He quietly opened the door and moved across the room into the open closet; closing the door just enough to leave a crack. Even Laurel was not to know where he was, lest she give away his position.
Just as Laurel slipped her second arm into its sleeve, Greenwich came into the room with his gun drawn. “Freeze lady!”
Laurel screamed and pulled her blouse closed.
“You’re in big trouble Mrs. Jacobs,” Greenwich said. “You’re coming with me....where’s the other guy, Reed?”
“Well if you didn’t see him on the stairs then he probably already knows that you’re here.” Laurel answered.
“He ran, then?”
Laurel couldn’t help but scoff at his conceit.
Suddenly Reed burst out of the closet and grabbed the gun. Greenwich’s finger squeezed the trigger and a bullet smashed into Laurel’s mirror. Laurel screamed and ran to a corner. There she crouched down and tried to make herself as small as possible.
Greenwich and Reed strained against each other for control of the gun; both with long grunts of stress escaping their lips. Greenwich was by far the stronger man and soon Reed couldn’t hold any longer. Greenwich threw Reed against Laurel’s dresser and quickly aimed to fire. Reed ducked and the bullet seared another hole in the mirror sitting on top of it. Reed tackled into Greenwich and pushed him out the door. They met the stairs and tumbled down. The edges of the individual steps dug into Reed’s back, then his head, then his shoulder; and then back again. Finally they landed at the bottom of the steps and rolled apart from each other. Each of them were sporting some fresh wounds that stopped the struggle momentarily.
Reed quickly rubbed a sore spot on his shoulder; then rolled over and socked Greenwich across the face. They both stood and Greenwich fired a quick shot into Reed’s nose. Reed’s neck snapped back but his nose still cracked, and blood began to drizzle out. Reed reciprocated by cupping his fist and ramming his elbow into Greenwich’s stomach. Greenwich swung his fist up and hit Reed squarely in the face. Reed’s blood streaked across the back of his hand. Reed stumbled backward into a wall and wiped his bleeding nose. Greenwich lunged at Reed with his big fist pulled back and fired it at him. Reed ducked and Greenwich’s fist crashed into the wall. The weakened material crumbled under the pressure and his fist went right through. Reed took this opportunity to punch Greenwich in the stomach and then across his face. Greenwich yanked his arm out of the wall and used the momentum to swing a backhand at Reed’s head. Reed ducked, hooked him in the stomach and brought his foot up; stomping once more on his gut. Greenwich staggered backward, arms wrapped around the area.
Reed wiped his nose and swung at Greenwich with his right hand. Greenwich released his stomach and caught the fist. He tried to punch Reed with his own right hand, but Reed caught that. With more creative plan of attack, they pushed up against each other in a juvenile match of strength, their torsos butting and their biceps straining. Reed strength slowly started to fail. Reed was losing! The thought struck his mind but he honestly didn’t want to give an inch to save himself.

With the two red-meat-eating men gone, Laurel stood up and buttoned her blouse. She ran to get downstairs to escape, but as she was passing the bed the floor gave way. The entire area around the bed, including the bed, fell to the floor below and Laurel went along with a short scream of terror.
Reed finally decided that it wasn’t worth it trying to match muscles with this guy. He kicked Greenwich in the stomach again; effectively pushing them apart. Greenwich turned, pushed off the wall and came charging back at Reed with full force. Suddenly the ceiling caved in from the fire damage and fell on top of him. A bed and a few hundred pounds of wood crushed him under their immense weight. Laurel came rolling off the pile of rubble and stopped at Reed’s feet.
Reed raised an eyebrow. Being lucky sure didn’t hurt.
“Good job, Laurel,” he said; helping her to her feet.
Laurel looked at the foot sticking out from under the rubble and said, “It was an accident.”
Reed shrugged. “That’s okay. Well, let’s get moving to the hospital; he won’t go unmissed for long.”
Laurel nodded in agreement; but suddenly Reed’s watch started beeping. Reed stopped and looked at it. It read exactly 1:00 pm.
“On second thought,” Reed said, “we need to go to the police station.”
“What? Why would we do that?” Laurel asked.
“I need to pick up my car,” Reed said flatly; moving for the front door.
Laurel chased him, “What? We can’t just go back to the police station for your stupid car!”
Reed was walking out the front door but suddenly turned around to face her. “First of all: it’s not a stupid car! And second: my mechanic is with it! There’s no guarantee that they won’t just hold him there if they recognize my car! I need to get him too!”
Reed’s sudden, uncharacteristic show of humanitarianism surprised her. She blinked a few times and forced out an, “Oh.”
Reed sort of shook his head in dismissal of the moment and continued out toward the cop car. He opened the driver’s side door and peeked in briefly; then, uttering a curse word, he sat in the seat and ducked under the dashboard.
“What are you doing?” Laurel asked after a few moments.
“Starting the car by alternative means,” Reed said gently.
“Hotwiring it,” Laurel laid it out.
“Yes.”
“And why do you know how to do that?” Laurel asked.
Suddenly the vehicle’s V8 engine roared to life. Reed pressed down on the accelerator a few times to make sure it stayed running.
He got out and drew himself erect. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Reed. before I get in this car I need you to answer me something;” Laurel said, “are you some sort of killer?”
Reed was silent for a while; just searching her face. Finally he answered, “No, I’m a thief; please get in the car.”
Laurel looked at him for another moment and moved to the passenger side.

6)
“All units in pursuit of an early model Plymouth Barracuda…”

Hutchison was getting tired of Sergeant Nitch. He thought that Nitch was using the tour as an excuse to search the car; but now it seemed to him that Nitch was genuinely engrossed in the design of the piece of crap. Devlin was even now explaining the suspension system and Hutchison was through.
“Alright; enough of this nonsense!” he exploded. “We’re going to search your car!”
Devlin scoffed; not taken aback at all. “You got a warrant?”
“We don’t need a warrant!” Hutchison lied. “This vehicle is parked on government property! We have a right to search it!”
“Fine; I’ll just move it,” Devlin said.
“It’s too late for that!” Hutchison stomped over to Devlin and held his hand out. “Give me the keys!”
“Geez, I’ll just open it for you myself if you’re that torn up about it.” Devlin walked to the trunk and opened it up. He pushed the door open and motioned for Hutchison to have a look.
Hutchison obliged and peeked inside. The only thing he found was a large metal pin that looked like it held two pieces of something together. The inside of the trunk also appeared to have some sort of metal sheet patching a hole on the inside of the back end of the car.
“Satisfied?” Devlin asked mockingly with his eyebrows raised.
Hutchison turned away and moved for the passenger seat.
‘Oh crap; the caltrops,’ Devlin thought.
Hutchison leaned over Angela and tore open the glove compartment. There was nothing; not even gloves.
“What exactly are you looking for Officer Hutchison?” Angela peered hard at his name plate three inches from her face.
Hutchison looked at her; stood erect and looked at Devlin, then said, “Alright. We have reason to believe that you two are somehow connected with the escaped fugitive, Reed Newton.”
“Who’s that?” Devlin shrugged.
“Well only the coolest damn outlaw this side of Daytona!” Angela interrupted.“And people, that’s on the beach.”
“Angie, don’t swear,” Devlin put in immediately.
Hutchison gazed at Angela with a little grimace spreading over his face.
“He give you that?” Angela suddenly said; nodding her head toward the bandage on Hutchison’s arm.
Devlin shot her a look. ‘What is she thinking?’
“Uh-huh,” Hutchison said coolly. “Give me your phone Mr…?”
“Devlin,” he answered. “And you don’t need my phone.”
“Oh I think I do,” Hutchison said; suddenly stalking toward Devlin.
Devlin made the mistake of standing his ground; not knowing Hutchison wasn’t about to beg. When Hutchison got in range he quickly swung his left arm up and punched Devlin across the face. Devlin turned mid-fall and landed face down.
“Hey!” Angela screamed; hopping out of the car.
“Jesus, Tom!” Nitch said; though never actually moving.
Hutchison reached down and pulled Devlin’s phone out of his back pocket; flipping it open. He quickly went to the contacts menu. The very first name on the list he saw was “Reed.”
“Ha, I knew it,” Hutchison leered.
“Give me that back!” Devlin shouted as he stood. “That phone’s no good to you!”
Hutchison slipped the phone into his breast pocket. “I will not be denied, you scum!”
Hutchison reared his fist back to strike again; but suddenly there was the distinct sound of a police siren. It didn’t fade in as if the sirens were approaching. They just started as if someone had switched them on in earshot. Everyone stopped moving while the noise moved ever closer. The Doppler Effect seemed to have total control over their motor functions. The eeriness of the whole event kept them all still and wondering.
Suddenly a squad car tore around the corner and flew into the parking lot at amazing speed! The car straightened beautifully and made a beeline straight for Hutchison. Nitch dove out of the way but Hutchison was too slow. The car hit him dead on at least at thirty miles an hour. Hutchison’s legs were swept from under him and his face bounced off the windshield. The car slid to a stop immediately and his body was thrown off; slapping onto the pavement. Through the whole outrageous scene, the squad car barely missed the Barracuda.
Reed got out of the police car and walked around the backside. Laurel was forced to get out the driver’s side door as well because the passenger side door was blocked by the large black vehicle.
Nitch got back to his feet shouting, “Freeze!” and reaching for his gun.
Reed didn’t even bother to look at him; he just pulled out his gun and started firing in the general direction of the noise. The bullets whizzed into the brick wall of the police station just above the sergeant’s head. Nitch had just pulled his gun out but was forced to duck and make for the safety of the front door. He opened the door and jumped into the lobby. Reed had expended all six remaining bullets and simply tossed his gun to the pavement.
Nitch started jumping up and down, frantically waving his arms, “It’s Reed Newton! He’s shooting outside! Everyone get to your cars before he escapes!”
The police in the lobby all dropped what they were doing again and ran for the front door.
“Everyone, get in the car,” Reed ordered calmly.
Angela quickly ran around the car and sat in the front, Devlin hopped in the back with Laurel, and Reed took the driver’s seat.
Reed backed up at full speed, then released the gas, and jerked the steering wheel hard to the right. This difficult maneuver caused the car to spin one hundred and eighty degrees in the space of two car lengths; after which Reed quickly changed gears and slammed his foot down on the accelerator. The car’s engine roared its approval and took off out of the parking lot.
The cops came out of the station just in time to catch a glimpse of the Plymouth Barracuda. They all ran for any squad car they could bum a ride off of. There were only five squad cars in the above ground parking lot and many officers were left behind; a few stopped to check on Hutchison.
The gang was speeding up North 4th street when the squad cars appeared in the rearview mirror with lights flashing and sirens wailing.
Matt had managed to get into the car that was now near the middle of the pack of pursuit cars. He picked up the radio and reported to dispatch immediately. “All units in pursuit of an early model Plymouth Barracuda, black; now heading northbound on 4th street at sixty miles an hour!
Reed suddenly turned right with graceful efficiency, keeping well ahead of the cops.
“Now east on Cooper Street!”
Sergeant Nitch was in the car at the head of the pursuing party, his voice suddenly came over the loudspeaker. “Reed Newton, stop your car and indicate that you are willing to surrender or we will use force! You have ten seconds to comply!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Reed rolled his eyes.
After ten seconds Nitch turned to the guy in the passenger seat and said, “We need to stop this guy before he can get to any heavy traffic. Open fire, aim for his tires.”
The officer nodded and grabbed the assault shotgun from the back seat barricade. He rolled down his window and leaned out; taking quick aim, he fired. The bullets exploded on the rear signal lights.
“Hey!” Reed yelled. “Damn it, don’t do that!”
Suddenly there was another loud report of a shotgun; this time glancing off the pavement near the rear right tire.
Reed shook his head. “That’s it. Angela, take the wheel.”
“What?” Angela shrieked.
“Do it!” Reed ordered.
Angela grabbed the wheel and tried to hold it steady; a moan of disapproval escaping her lips.
“Alright,” Reed said. “Now move over me so we can switch seats.”
Angela partially stood up in her own seat and moved to the left while Reed moved to the right. Halfway, Angela sat on Reed’s lap to find new footing and moved her feet to the accelerator.
“What are they doing?” a cop asked Matt.
“They must be switching seats so Newton can do something,” Matt answered. “Be careful.”
As Angela was leaving Reed’s lap she said, “Is that a gun in your pocket or you just happy to see me?”
“Very funny, just get your big butt in the seat,” Reed said.
“Hey!” Angela yelled. “I do not have a fat ass!”
Finally Angela plopped down into the driver’s seat and Reed sat in the passenger’s.
“Don’t swear, Angela,” Reed said. “You never hear me swear.”
“You swear. I know you do; even if it’s not around me!”
“Whatever,” Reed muttered.
Reed didn’t stop in the passenger’s seat, he continued to climb into the back seat and then onto the trunk!
“Reed, what’re you doing?” Laurel yelled.
Reed didn’t answer; he simply yelled, “Pop the trunk!” to Angela.
Angela clumsily reached down and pulled the release lever. The trunk opened but she lost control for a moment and the car wavered. Reed lost his balance and fell over the side of the car! Quickly he grabbed the now exposed edge of the trunk and dangled next to the rear tire.
“Jesus,” Matt breathed.
“Reed!” Devlin shouted.
“What?” Reed asked.
Devlin stopped and thought for a moment. “I don’t know; I just felt the need to scream your name.”
Reed’s shoes scraped along the road as he tried to pull himself back up. He managed to get his other hand on the edge and pull himself up. There he reached his left hand up and grabbed the open trunk door. With one last, strong pull he threw his whole body into the trunk.
None were quite sure what Reed was up to. The officer beside Sergeant Nitch asked, “What’s he doing? Are there any weapons in that trunk?”
Nitch shook his head. “No, there’s nothing but a silly pin-thing.”
Reed grabbed the metal sheet in the trunk and pulled it to its upright position, then he grabbed the pin and inserted it into the hole connecting the sheet to the rest of the car. The pin caused the sheet of metal to stay in its upright position. The purpose of the metal sheet and the mysterious pin was suddenly, insultingly clear. It was a shield. The sheet separated Reed from the onslaught of bullets; which made the trunk…a mobile bunker.
“Distract them with the caltrops!” Reed yelled.
“There aren’t any in the glove box, Reed!” Devlin yelled back.
“I took them out! They’re in my purse!” Angela interjected.
Devlin climbed over the front seat and sat down; then reached under the dashboard pulled up the pink purse. He reached inside and immediately let out an, “Ow!” but a moment later pulled out the small, sharp, metal spikes.
“Okay got ‘em!” Devlin yelled.
“Good job, throw them!” Reed yelled back.
Devlin turned around in the seat and lobbed the caltrops into the middle of the road. Nitch swerved and missed them, but just barely. The car behind hit dead on and its tires exploded with a sudden bang! The car lost control and involuntarily turned a full ninety degrees. Another squad car rammed it in the side. The sheer force of the hit and the precarious position of the car tipped it over onto its roof. Matt and the final car maneuvered around the wreckage easily.
Reed grabbed a loose corner of the carpet in the trunk and tore it up from the floor. The simple act unveiled a trap door leading down into the car itself. Reed twisted the handle and pulled the trap door open; revealing a cache of guns of all sorts ranging from high caliber pistols to fully automatic assault rifles.
The cop sitting next to Nitch was still leaning out the window; the gun trained on the car. “I can’t get a shot! Get out here ya chicken shit!”
Suddenly Reed burst up from behind the shield with an M-4 assault rifle and began unloading on Nitch’s car. The cop screamed and ducked back inside as numerous bullet holes were punched in the hood. The officer driving Matt’s car slowed down to avoid the barrage. Soon there was so much damage to the hood of Nitch’s car that the lock busted and the wind opened it. The engine started on fire and Nitch was blinded by the vertical hood. He had no choice but to pull over and stop the car.
The car behind Matt went for a pass because his car had slowed down so much. Reed ducked back into the trunk and reloaded the rifle. Angela was coming up on the intersection at Cooper and North 7th street, and travelling south was a 1971 Oldsmobile Vista Cruiser; who had the right of way.
Devlin noticed the situation and lost his nerve. “Angela look out!” he screamed.
“We’re not gonna make it!” Laurel joined.
“Yes we are!” Angela screamed back.
Simultaneously they all screamed in utter fear. The speedometer was maxed out at 180 miles an hour as the Hemi Cuda blew past the front end of the Oldsmobile; missing by no more than two inches! The driver of the Oldsmobile had punched down the brakes and slowed. Reed poked his head out of the trunk prepared to fire just in time for the Oldsmobile to tear the gun out of his hands!
“Woah!” Reed shouted.
The force at which the gun was taken out of Reed’s hands caused the hanging clip to trace a large gash on his left palm.
“Jesus!” Reed groaned through his teeth as he squeezed his hand.
The car that passed Matt smashed right into the side of the Oldsmobile and shoved it into the Cuda’s back end. Metal tore, glass shattered and the seat-belt-less driver’s face smashed into the windshield. Reed retreated back into the trunk and covered his head as the Oldsmobile bumped the Barracuda forward. Matt’s driver quickly slammed down the brakes and swerved to the right; avoiding the accident.
The chase was over. Reed peeked over the shield and watched the pursuit cars disappear into the distance. He turned around, leaned over the trunk door and said, “We need to regroup.”

Matt got out of the car and ran over to the smashed squad car. The front end was completely crumpled in on itself and blood was smeared on what was left of the wind shield.
“Oh my god,” Matt cried.
Almost a mile up the road, Nitch was waving a jacket at the fire spraying out of his engine. “Goddammit!” he growled.
Matt glanced at him for a brief moment, and then rushed over to the Vista cruiser; having decided already that he’d need the Jaws of Life to open the squad car. The side of the Vista Cruiser was smashed in but it looked like there was a legitimate chance that there were survivors. Matt rushed around and looked through the windshield, suddenly letting out a breath of air. Inside the car was a family of four; a husband, a wife, and two daughters. Luckily, they were all wearing their seat belts and the dad was already checking if everyone was okay.
Suddenly Nitch’s voice came from behind. “We’ll get him, Brice. Count on it.”

7)
“Two wrongs…are only the beginning.”

Pine Poynt Park
1:52 pm

Angela and Laurel had gotten acquainted and were now strolling through the park, talking about many things; but mostly about Reed.
“So you’re like his..?” Laurel left the thought hanging.
“Sister,” Angela inserted.
“But, I thought you said your last name was Cook?”
Angela bobbed her head from side to side in a moment of consideration, “Well, we’re not relatives genetically. It’s this whole thing with his mom.”
Laurel took this moment to ask about something that had been eating at her for hours. “Hey um, when I first met Reed, I asked why he carried a gun on him, and he said,” Laurel shook her head at the thought, “… condom.”
Angela began laughing hysterically. “Yeah; he carries a gun on him at all times because it’s the same ethics as a condom. He’d rather have one and not need it, than need it and not have one.”
Laurel nodded at the logic. “So, does he have a condom?”
Angela thought for a moment; looking at the sky as if searching for an answer. “Ya know, I don’t think so.”
The two laughed together.
“Anyway, is that how you two met; through his mother?” Laurel asked.
“No, we just grew close because of her, I suppose.” Angela nodded. “Reed and I grew up in Harlem; which was about as bad as it sounds.
Laurel shook her head. “I didn’t-.”
“No, no. It’s okay.” Angela waved her hand at Laurel. “It’s not racist to think the thought I know came into your head first. We were two white kids growing up in the meanest, black dominated neighborhood you can imagine.”
“Must have been rough, “Laurel said.
Angela widened her eyes in a mocking fashion and nodded. “My parents were forced to move there due to serious lack of money. One time, I was being harassed by a bunch of kids; telling me I didn’t belong and such, thinking I was the only white kid in the school. That was when Reed found me. He was getting a drink at the water fountain and he noticed I’d been cornered at the end of the hall. As you probably know by now, Reed has sort of an imposing way of getting a point across. He stomped over to them and just started grabbing them by their collars and shoving them away from me. Once he was standing between me and them he started this spirited lecture about tolerance and acceptance. Of course, it didn’t take too well. The kids were already pretty P.O.’ed about him manhandling them and were fixing to beat on Reed five-to-one; but then Reed flicked out his switch blade and they hesitated. It was in that moment when a teacher actually came around. Reed was suspended for like, two months for having a knife in school. They confiscated it but Reed broke in that night and took it back.”
Laurel let out a short laugh. “But what did his mom say?”
“Oh, the letter never got to her.” Angela said. “Reed took it out of the mailbox and burned it.”
Angela smiled. “Well anyway, my parents died in a car crash when I was about fourteen. Reed’s mom had already met me by that time and, being the saintly woman that she was, let me live with them as opposed to living in a foster home.”
“Neat.” Laurel smiled.
“Yeah, she was the best.” Angela stopped and sat up against a tree.
“If Reed’s mom was such a good woman, how did Reed end up a criminal?” Laurel asked.
“That was one of the biggest surprises of my life.” Angela started. “Reed’s mom didn’t have the highest paying job and Reed’s dad had split on them before Reed was even born; but they still managed to keep the house and buy food and have presents at Christmas and everything else. One night I couldn’t sleep and noticed Reed sneaking out. I jumped into my shoes and followed him. I was real sneaky but I was still surprised he didn’t notice me. He walked down the sidewalk without stopping. It was eerie the way he just had his hoodie on like some common criminal; me catching glimpses of him as he passed under the streetlights. And he was so quiet! I couldn’t even hear the sound of his sneakers hitting the pavement. We walked for what felt like hours; but he kept a constant, droning pace the whole time.”
“Yeah, even I had to deal with that.” Laurel laughed.
Angela didn’t join her this time. She just continued her story. “Finally he came to this expensive looking house and bent down in front of the door. Quickly he picked the lock and pushed it open. Then he just sat there for a moment; peering inside. No alarm went off; no one came running downstairs with a baseball bat. Then he moved into the house…into the darkness.
“And what did you do?” Laurel asked.
“I ran home,” Angela said simply.
“Was that the first time he stole?”
“Apparently not.” Angela shook her head slightly. “I asked him about it the next morning; told him about everything I saw. He just said, ‘I figured that was you following me.”
“And?”
“I guess one day, before I ever came into the picture, his mom was looking over the bills and said that this was it. Finally they were going to lose the house. She had a little money to pay but the bank said it wasn’t enough. Suddenly Reed came home the following morning with the whole thing.”
“And she didn’t think that was weird?” Laurel asked.
Angela was silent for a moment; then said, “Reed’s mom was amazing but by no means a miracle worker; and she knew to just accept how it went down. She asked no questions, and Reed told no lies.”
“So you were the only person he ever hung out with?” Laurel asked.
Angela shook her head furiously. “No, he had another friend.”
“What happened to them?”
Angela shot Laurel a very angry look. “Don’t ask about her. Okay? Ever.”
They both were quiet for some time after that; finally Laurel asked, “So, where is Reed?”
“He’s over by the car, moping.” Angela whipped her hand in the direction of Reed.
Laurel walked away without another word.
“Oh, don’t mention any of this to Reed,” Angela pleaded. “He’s sensitive about the subject.”
“Sensitive?” Laurel asked.
“You know what I mean.” Angela rolled her eyes. “He probably just wouldn’t want to talk about it.”
Laurel nodded and continued on her way.

“I’m telling you Reed, it’s no problem,” Devlin said. “I’ll have it fixed in no time once we get back to the garage.”
Reed was knelt down at the back end of the Barracuda; eying the damage thoughtfully. His hand was already bandaged by cotton and gauze from his extensive roadside survival kit.
“How could they do this?” Reed squinted hard at the area.
“It’ll be fine. Let’s just get back to New York, huh?” Devlin tapped Reed on the shoulder.
“No.” Reed stood, shaking his head.
“What? Why not?” Devlin squeaked.
Reed looked him dead in the eye with a cold, calculating stare. “Running back to New York is good enough for me but not for Laurel. I’m going to help her.”
“But why?” Devlin screamed. “Why is she so important?”
Just then, Laurel stepped into view and Reed didn’t answer.
“Where are we going next?” she asked.
“Cooper University Hospital,” Reed muttered. “Your coroner might be able to help us out with his report. Maybe he found something weird.”
“Well, we can’t drive the Cuda around,” Devlin put in. “There’s no way they haven’t put an APB out on it by now. And that taillight damage will give us away in an instant.”
Reed retorted. “There’s a good chance they think we’re running for it right now. Besides, I’ll take the chance.”
“This is insane,” Devlin breathed.
“Devlin, shut up,” Reed finally said. “Go retrieve Angela. We’re leaving.”
Devlin sucked in a large amount of air; and then just huffed it back out. He turned and walked into the park.
Laurel watched him leave, then said, “So why are you helping me?”
Reed looked at her for a moment. “Because you don’t deserve to be a victim.”
Reed moseyed over to the front of the car and hopped into the driver’s seat.
Soon Devlin returned with Angela and they left immediately. Angela was happy to hear that they were going to continue to aid Laurel. Laurel and Angela talked in the backseat the whole way to the hospital. Many times they passed police cars and many times they did not turn on their lights or give chase. As Reed believed, many of the police officers still did not know what they were looking for.
The gang arrived at the hospital without a hitch; not even red lights stopped them. Despite Reed’s composure; the air reeked of urgency.
Reed pulled into a parking space and turned the car off. He turned around in the seat and said, “Alright, Laurel and I will go inside and try to find the coroner. You two, stay here.”
Angela and Devlin began to protest immediately, but Reed silenced them with a furious look.
Reed and Laurel got out and walked into the hospital. The air was cool; a pleasant contrast to the arid heat outside; but the eerie hospital lights counteracted the nice sensation with their unnatural green tinge.
Reed and Laurel walked right up to the front desk to ask for directions.
“Where’s the coroner’s office?” Reed asked.
The woman behind the counter was stout with granny glasses and hundreds of wrinkles. “If you’re looking for Dr. Peterson; he’s not in his office. People have been trying to reach him all day with no luck,” she said.
“Then where?” he asked.
“Probably in the morgue; in the basement. Do you want me to call ahead?” she croaked.
“No.” Reed smiled lightly. “We haven’t seen him in a while and want to surprise him.”
“Okay.” The woman’s stare was unnerving.
Reed and Laurel took the stairs to the sublevels; again asking for directions for the morgue. The sublevels were dark and the halls were long. At the final stretch before the morgue, a resident pointed them down a hall toward two generic double doors.
As they approached the door, Laurel stopped and put her hand over her stomach. “I don’t think I can go in there with you, Reed.”
Reed looked perplexingly at her. “Why not?”
“I don’t like dead bodies.” Laurel shifted uncertainly.
“Whatever.” Reed turned around and pushed through the doors; leaving Laurel behind.
The morgue was relatively small compared to the ones in New York. A body was indeed even now resting on a table, so Reed decided that Laurel had made the right decision. He looked over the room briefly and almost immediately noticed a dark pool of blood nearing his feet. He followed the trail with his eyes until coming upon the sight of a doctor, lying face up on the floor with a bullet hole in his head.
“Damn it,” Reed breathed.
Suddenly the rapid clicking of a key board became very distinct in the room. Reed peered over at the desk in the corner of the room to see a black-clad figure working on the coroner’s computer. Almost at the same time, the assailant’s head moved up to look directly at Reed. In the next instant a gun was in his hand. Reed ducked and dove to the desk. The person fired but the extreme angle of the shot caused them to miss. The gunman stood to get another shot when Laurel suddenly burst into the room.
“Reed, what’s happening?” she shouted.
The gunman quickly adjusted his aim to fire at Laurel. Reed grabbed the bottom of the desk and tipped it over; the contents sitting on top spilling onto the floor. The desk hit the gunman’s legs and caused them to fall backward, letting out a shout. The shout sounded unusual. Reed knew right then something was weird about this; but he didn’t stop. Quickly, Reed threw himself onto the desk and grabbed the gun still in the gunman’s hand. The extra pressure of Reed’s weight on the desk caused the gunman to let out another groan. Then Reed was sure; the grunt was feminine. Even the assailant’s strength wasn’t up to par with his own as he tore the gun out of her hand.
“Bitch,” Reed muttered as he pulled the mask off the woman’s head to reveal that she was, in fact, a woman. She was a dirty blonde with a ponytail.
Reed threw the gun over by Laurel and said, “Check if anyone’s coming!”
Laurel picked up the gun tentatively and peeked out the door. “Um, no one’s coming.”
Reed pushed himself up and stood on the desk. “Finally, I have hold of one of you. Start talking.”
The woman just let out another groan but didn’t answer.
Reed started jumping up and down on the desk; speaking in rhythm to his motion. “An-swer-me. Who-are-you?”
“Oh god,” she groaned through clenched teeth. “My name is Officer Elaine Kolden.”
“And what are you doing here?” Reed continued.
Kolden was silent, breathing deeply through her teeth.
Reed held his hand back toward Laurel. “Laurel, toss me the gun.”
When Laurel tossed it, the gun spun through the air. Reed caught it by the barrel but deftly stuck his finger into the trigger guard and flipped it to its correct position. He pointed the gun at her head and asked again.
“I was told to kill the coroner and delete all of his files.” she gave in.
“By who?” Reed growled.
“I can’t tell you,” Elaine answered. “He’ll kill me.”
Reed got a look on his face like that was absurd. “Kill you? Bitch, I’ll kill you!”
Kolden remained silent.
Reed sighed. “Fine.”
Reed stepped off the desk and walked over to the dead coroner’s body. Elaine let out a rapid exhalation of air as his weight was lifted. Reed looked at the body of the coroner for a moment; then walked over to a rack near the door and pulled two scrubs off of it.
“Oh my god. Is he dead?” Laurel asked; staring nervously at the coroner.
Reed tossed one of the scrubs to Laurel saying, “Put it on.”
Laurel knew not to ask questions and slipped it on swiftly. Reed knew what he was doing.
Reed put on a mask and walked over to the medicinal storage cabinet. “Hmm, maybe there’s something useful we can use here.” Reed scanned all of the names of the various fluids and finally selected one of the vials and a syringe.
Reed stuck the syringe into the top of his choice vial and extracted the chemical as he walked over to Officer Kolden. He grabbed Kolden’s arm, quickly squeezed out any air that might be in the needle, and stuck the syringe into her arm.
Kolden flinched as the needle entered her and asked, “What are you doing to me?”
“I’m giving you a shot of morphine to keep you compliant,” Reed answered flatly.
“Jesus, how much are you giving me?” she breathed.
“Ten milligrams. It’ll keep you delirious for quite some time.” Reed pushed down on the pump.
“How would you know anything about morphine?” Kolden asked.
“The internet is a wonderful tool,” Reed said.
Kolden rolled her eyes in despair. “Are you serious? So you’re saying that all you know about morphine is off a website?”
“Don’t worry,” Reed assured her coldly. “I pumped out the air and took the sample directly from the vial. I couldn’t find an alcohol pad but the needle hasn’t been used before. You’ll be fine. I’ll just give this a few moments to take effect and then we can go.”
Reed took the needle out of her and walked over to a table where he set it down.
“What do you mean?” Kolden asked, “Where are we going?”
“I’m just going to drop you off at the police station.” Reed answered.
Kolden suddenly shook her head; the effects of the morphine already taking a toll on her awareness.
Reed leaned up against the table and waited. Laurel went over to him, taking a cautionary glance at the body still lying on the table. It was mind-blowing to her that he could stand so close to it and remain so casual. He must be comfortable around dead bodies by now.
“Reed,” she whispered. “What do want out of life?”
Reed’s eyebrows furrowed deeply as he turned his head to look at her. “What? Why do you want to know that?”
“It’s just something David asked me once.” Laurel stared at Reed stalwartly. “We were lying on a hill and he asked me that.”
“What did you say?” Reed asked.
“Happiness.”
Reed rolled his eyes at the cliché.
Laurel shook her head at him. “What do you want?”
Reed rubbed his eyes for a moment; then took his hand away and said, “All I want I can’t have anymore. I---I want my sister to be happy. I want her to smile until her face hurts. Until her cheeks cramp up.”
“Well that’s nice---”
“And I wanted Charlotte---”
Reed choked off his words and averted his eyes to the floor. Laurel swore she saw his eyes start watering.
Laurel’s mood seemed to change then, in a small way that Reed didn’t even notice on a conscious level, but was aware of it nonetheless. She moved closer and kissed Reed, this time for the express purpose of kissing him and taking in his essence. When she pulled away, she held her eyes closed, just to savor the closeness she felt.
“And I want to help you survive this and get revenge,” Reed suddenly said in a low voice “It’s important. I’ll kill them all if I have to. The bastards won’t win.”
Laurel saw that Reed was becoming emotional and it almost seemed as if he couldn’t actually handle it. She tried to calm him down. “The revenge isn’t that important,” she said in a soothing voice. “And no matter what they’ve done; killing those men isn’t the right way to do it. Two wrongs don’t make a right--”
In an instant, Reed was furious. He growled and snatched her shirt collar into his right hand; yanking her closer. Laurel gasped in fear.
“Two wrongs…are only the beginning,” Reed growled menacingly.
Laurel’s shoulders dropped in dismay. Her eyes were wide and fearful, but her eyebrows were curved upward as if in pity.
Reed, while still holding her gaze, shouted, “Hey, Elaine!”
“What?” Kolden answered.
“Diarrhea.” Reed said.
Kolden started laughing hysterically; a snorting, nasal laugh; and she continued to laugh for some time.
Reed released Laurel and walked away.
“Why is there even morphine in a morgue?” Laurel asked after him.
“I don’t know. This is probably just a backup storage area for the whole wing,” Reed answered, walking over to the desk and lifting it off of Kolden.
“Alright, get up,” Reed said, grabbing Kolden by the hand and dragging her to her feet. He led her over to a stretcher and laid her down; then he fastened her to the bed with the straps and brought the stretcher to its upright position. “Let’s go, Dr. Jacobs.”
Laurel quickly pulled on a mask and followed Reed as he pushed his way through the double doors. They wheeled their way through the halls and went into the elevator. After Reed pressed the “1” button, a doctor snuck in as the doors were closing and took a spot in the back.
After a moment he asked, “What do we have here?”
“We found this woman in the morgue, rifling through the medicines,” Reed said immediately. “She’s injected herself with morphine already.”
The doctor took out a flash light and shined it into her eye. “Has she reported any constipation or an irregular menstrual cycle?”
“Constipation!” Kolden laughed. “Dia-heh-heh-rrhea! Ha ha!”
Reed glanced at Laurel for a moment, and then said, “Yes.”
“We should get her to a room.” the doctor stated the obvious.
Reed suddenly swung his right arm around and punched the doctor in the jaw. The doctor’s head snapped back and hit the wall of the elevator. He collapsed to the floor.
The door opened on the first floor and Reed quickly rolled the stretcher out. “I think we’ll get a second opinion,” he said as he pushed the basement floor button and wheeled the stretcher down the hall.
The elevator door closed and the good doctor was sent back down.
Reed and Laurel were crossing the main lobby on their way to the automatic doors that were their exit.
Reed was visibly nervous. “Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk…” he repeated.
The clerk at the front desk shouted to them. “Where are you taking that bed?”
“Run run run, now we run!” Reed’s pace quickened and he sped the stretcher to the doors.
“Wheeee!” Kolden yelled.
The clerk jumped out of her chair and pointed at them with an accusing finger. “Security, stop them!”
The automatic doors opened too slow and Reed slammed right into it. His body bumped into the stretcher and he stopped for a moment to allow it to open completely; then he sighed and dashed through.
Devlin and Angela saw them coming. Angela stood in her seat and shouted, “Reed, what’s going on?”
Suddenly a security guard came running out of the hospital after them and she sat back down, starting the car.
Reed pushed the stretcher up next to the car and ran for the trunk. “Laurel, unclip her!”
As Laurel quickly went about her task, Reed threw open the trunk and pulled out a .40 caliber pistol; pointing it at the guard. The guard ground to a halt and put his hands up. Reed handed the gun to Devlin; and Devlin continued to hold the guard with it. Now that Kolden was free, Reed grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her into the car. He hopped into the driver’s seat and peeled away as fast as he could.
“Who’s she?” Devlin asked.
“She’s one of the cops who took an early retirement in the last month.” Laurel answered.
“She is?” Reed asked.
“Yes, I recognized her name from the newspaper,” Laurel said. “Even they noticed the enormous amount of police officers taking early retirements.”
“Hey Elaine,” Reed said. “Who else is in on this funny business of yours?”
Kolden put her index finger to her lips. “Shhh, mustn’t tell.” Even under morphine’s influence Kolden’s lips remained sealed.
“What are we going to do with her, Reed?” Angela asked.
Reed simply said, “You’ll see.”

Minutes later, they were back in front of the police station.
“Push her out,” Reed ordered.
Devlin opened the door and pushed Kolden onto the pavement. Once the door was closed again; Reed squealed the tires and sped away from the scene.
An officer was walking out for a smoke break and heard the commotion. He went outside to investigate. There he spotted Kolden on the ground at the edge of the parking lot and rushed to her. In her delirium, she simply smiled and waved.

8)
“You have no reason to live, so God won’t let you die.”

Mc Donald’s Restaurant
4:08

Reed sat in the booth staring at his half-eaten Big Mac in silence as Laurel regaled everyone else at the table with events from throughout the day.
Angela was dumbfounded once Laurel finished her story. “Wow,” she finally said. “Just another day at the office, eh Reed?”
Laurel smiled, “Yeah.”
“What I don’t get though; is why you got in that cop’s car in the first place.” Devlin absent-mindedly rubbed the bruise on his cheek.
“How was I supposed to know what he was going to do?”
“Oh bullshit, Reed.” Angela chimed in.
“Don’t swear.”
“Don’t swear.”
“You knew what the little punk was up to and you went anyway. I know you, Reed. Were you just bored? Did you need the excitement?”
Reed didn’t answer, he simply turned to the window and peered outside.
Angela sighed. “So, what do we do now?”
Reed looked out the window at the ever descending sun for a while. Eventually the intense light began to hurt his eyes and he looked away casually. “I don’t know; these fries suck and they’re making it hard to think.”
Laurel read his body language perfectly and said, “We’ve been running from the police all day long. Could we just find a hotel or something?”
Reed took another bite out of his burger and nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Let’s go.”
“Don’t you wanna finish your burger first?” Angela asked.
Reed shook his head as he threw his burger on the tray with everything else. “No. We shouldn’t be eating this crap anyway; it’s bad for you.”
Reed grabbed the tray and walked over to the garbage, dumping everything in. The gang got out of the booth and followed as Reed walked toward the front entrance doors. That’s when he saw them; two cops walking toward the restaurant. Now freed of the supernaturally thought-hindering fries, Reed quickly came up with a plan. He slowed down so Laurel caught up to him, in which case he put his arm around her.
“Reed, what are you doing?” Laurel asked.
“Smile; we’re married,” Reed ordered.
Laurel took one quick glance out the window and understood.
Reed turned to the others. “Angela, go to the bathroom; Devlin… get a drink to go.”
Angela shot Reed a confused look but did as she was told; abruptly turning and heading for the bathroom. Devlin was already getting a refill when Reed spoke to him; he took one disinterested glance in their direction and continued about his business.
As Reed opened the door he nuzzled into the nape of Laurel’s neck. Laurel was already smiling as if having a good time but Reed’s nose was cold and it tickled so she laughed in spite of herself. The police officers passed them in the parking lot and didn’t stop. Once past, Reed looked back to see if they were even a little suspicious. They continued without a second glance so he let Laurel go. They walked over to the next parking lot where Reed had stashed the car and got in. A minute or two later, Angela and Devlin emerged from the restaurant and hurried to the car.
Angela was visibly elated. “Whoo! Quick thinking, Reed.”
They pulled out on the street and Laurel gave them directions to the Marriott Hotel.
“Hey, Devlin right?” Laurel asked suddenly.
Devlin gave her an irritated look and said, “Yeah?”
“Um, where did you meet Reed?” Laurel leaned over the front seat. “How did he get so…good?”
“What are you talking about?” Devlin inquired.
“Well, when we were face to face with that cop at my house, Reed dodged a bullet…how?”
Devlin smiled coyly. “Well, Reed would say that it’s not like in the movies; once the guy decides to shoot the bullet’s going to travel in a straight line. You don’t just stand there and wait to get shot; but I say he’s being protected.”
“Protected?”
“Yeah.” Devlin nodded matter-of-factly. “Reed probably operates under the impression that he’s lucky but I know why he is so lucky.”
“Why?”
“God knows he doesn’t have a reason to live-.”
Reed scoffed then.
“Yeah, Reed, you know it’s true,” Devlin said stubbornly, “and you have yet to realize your worth. You have no reason to live, so God won’t let you die.”
“If you look at it like that, then there’s not a lot of incentive for me to find my worth is there?” Reed said snidely.
Angela smiled.
While driving down North 2nd St. a cop pulled up behind them and flashed his lights.
Angela immediately lost her head. “Ohmygod ohmygod, Reed, it’s a cop, gun it!”
“Calm down,” Reed ordered, pulling over.
“Reed, are you insane?” Angela squeaked.
“No, Angela, just get ready to shoot him,” Reed said.
Angela fumbled around in her purse for her dart gun and pulled out the firearm, then quickly hid it behind her leg.
The cop parked behind them and walked up next to the car. “License and registration please.”
Reed already had the items ready and handed them over casually.
“Larry Messer?” the cop asked.
Reed nodded. “Yes sir.”
“Well sir, I pulled you over tonight because we have an A.P.B. out on a car matching this description, right down to the damaged headlights,” the cop explained, then after a moment of silence asked, “Could you step out of the car please, Mr. Messer?”
Reed sighed. “Angela.”
Angela brought the gun up and shot a dart into the officer’s stomach. The officer’s hand went to the area, but he quickly lost consciousness and he fell backwards into the street. A red Nissan Skyline going by at a faster speed than was considered safe tried to swerve but just ended up running over the cop’s face. The car crossed the center line and a cement truck smashed into its front end, spinning it around!
Angela leaned out the window. “Oh my god!” she shouted, covering her mouth.
“Ho shit!” Reed muttered under his breath, punching his foot down on the accelerator. The Cuda’s engine roared and they sped away.
“That was so messed up!” Angela shrieked.
Reed nodded and continued toward the hotel at a hurried pace.
“They’re gonna blame that on us too!” she continued. “We’re screwed! We’re screwed! They’re gonna nail me to the wall! They’re gonna send me upstate!” Angela started sobbing uncontrollably. “ …and I’m gonna be someone’s bi-he-hitch!”
Laurel and Devlin were staring at Angela with dumbfounded looks. For a crook, Angela was remarkably prone to breakdowns.
“Angela, stop swearing. And shut the hell up on top of that!” Reed put in. “No one’s going to send you to prison.”
Angela’s hysterics didn’t end; she leaned forward in the seat and sobbed into his ears. “How do you know!?”
Reed turned his head and looked at her confidently out the corner of his eye. “Because I would never let them.”
Angela’s expression softened and she almost managed a smile. There she leaned forward in her seat and wrapped her arms around Reed’s neck from behind. “Thank you, Reed.” She kissed him on the cheek.
Reed lifted his left arm up and pressed her face against his. “It’s okay. Now sit back. We’re not safe either.”
Angela did as she was told, wiping her eyes with her hand. Laurel scooted over and wrapped her arms around Angela. Angela accepted the comfort offered and they sat together in that embrace.
The gang arrived at the hotel and Reed quickly found a parking space. The gang hurried into the building and scuttled up to the front desk as a pack.
“Let’s get some really nice rooms,” Angela whispered into Reed’s ear, ever conscious of the level of luxury in her surroundings.
When the gang got up to the front desk the clerk glanced at them with bored eyes. “Checking in or checking out?”
“Checking in.” Reed rushed the words out. “Two luxury suites.”
The clerk typed on the computer for a moment, and then said, “Okay, that will be 708 dollars and 95 cents. Cash or charge?”
Reed turned to Devlin. “Where’s the money?”
“Angela’s got it in her purse,” Devlin answered.
Angela dipped into her purse and proffered the thousand dollar pack, neatly stacked in a rubber-band.
“I’ll also need a name and a phone number, along with a picture ID,” the clerk continued.
Reed looked at him with his furrowed eyebrows. “For what?”
“Security reasons,” the clerk spewed the old cliché. “We need a name if we go in there and the room’s wrecked.”
Reed turned back to the group.
“Just give him your fake ID!” Angela whisper-shouted.
“I can’t.” Reed shook his head.
“Why not?”
“Because the cop was holding it when he fell!” Reed answered.
Angela went quiet, slapping her hand over her face.
Reed turned and spoke in a low tone to the clerk. “How about I make it 800 dollars, and we forget the name?”
The clerk thought for a moment. “…a thousand.”
“A thousand?” Reed asked in outrage. “That’s a 300 dollar payoff!”
The clerk shrugged in arrogance. Reed rolled his eyes and plopped the entire pack of cash onto the counter.
The clerk subtracted his cut from the pile and handed Reed a key. “Enjoy your stay at the Marriott, Mr. Marley.”
Reed snatched up the key and the gang went up to their rooms.


“Here you go, Elaine.” Matt said, handing Kolden a hot cup of coffee at the police station.
Kolden rubbed her eyes and took a sip. “I don’t really remember what happened.” she repeated.
Matt sat in the chair across from her. “Okay, well then maybe you can tell me why you’re wearing this?” Matt grabbed the tight black material on Kolden’s arm and shook it gently.
Kolden looked at it for a moment, and then said, “I don’t know, they must have put it on me.”
“But why?” Matt asked.
“I don’t know…” Kolden was silent for a while. “Maybe…they were trying to pin me as the murderer, and not them.”
Matt scratched his forehead. “Maybe.”
He stood and paced around Kolden. “Okay, so you don’t know where you were when they found you, what you were doing, or what they did to you?”
Kolden shook her head innocently.
Suddenly Nitch burst into the room. “Alright, where is she?”
Matt indicated her with a motion of his hand.
“Elaine, we just got a bunch of calls from the hospital about a murder, and a body theft and a Reed Newton sighting, and all of it occurred just before you were dropped off by Newton! I want answers!” the sergeant barked.
“I don’t have any answers!” Kolden screamed back, almost on the verge of tears. “They drugged me, I don’t remember anything!”
Matt jumped into the conversation. “Oh really? Just a second ago you said you didn’t know what they did to you.”
Kolden gave him the puppy dog eyes in response.
Nitch groaned and waved her away. “Okay Matt, what do you think their next move is?”
Matt looked out the window and said, “It’s getting dark, and Newton seems hell-bent on staying in the city. They’ll probably be looking for a place to stay.”
“Great, we’ll search all the hotels in the area,” Nitch said, “Assemble one team for each hotel; I want you to head up this operation yourself.”
“Me?” Matt asked.
“Yes.” Nitch stabbed his finger at him. “You know Newton, you know his mentality, you go find him! Now go!”
Matt was stunned by Nitch’s frustration. “Fine, I’m on my way, sir.”
Matt grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. There were only two hotels in the area and one of them kept a log of the clientele.

Night had fallen at the hotel and the guys and girls were in their respective rooms. Reed had been lying on the bed for quite some time now, staring at the ceiling while Devlin watched “Mortal Kombat” on the television. Suddenly there was a knock at the door and Reed heaved himself off of the bed to answer it. When he opened the door he gazed upon none other than the angelic visage of Angela Cook.
“What?” Reed muttered.
“What kind of way is that to answer the door?” Angela asked in a sort of light-hearted outrage.
Reed didn’t answer, he simply waited in the doorway with a stone look on his face waiting for her to state her business.
After a moment Angela shook her head and said. “Anyway, I came to tell you to take a shower.”
Reed’s eyebrows furrowed instantly. “What?”
“I don’t mean to mother you Reed, but I figured now would be a good chance for you to clean yourself up; there’s also a coin laundry downstairs so I can wash your clothes too,” Angela explained.
“Fine,” Reed said, turning and walking into the room. He pulled off his jacket and threw it onto the bed; then he went into the bathroom and peeled off his sweaty Pink Floyd T-shirt and passed it to Angela.
Angela spotted the small black pouch hanging from the string on his neck and giggled. “Oh yeah, did you flip your coin yet?”
Reed stopped unzipping his pants and looked at the pouch. “Oh, no I didn’t.”
“Well let’s see!” Angela beamed.
Reed removed the trinket and pulled out a small nickel coin. It wasn’t a fancy coin; quite plain really. A simple arcade token from the 1980’s with a smiling clown face on one side and a message on the other that read “NO CASH VALUE.”
“Oh great and wise coin of prosperity,” Angela started, “does this new venture of Reed’s bear the promise of monetary gain?”
Reed flipped the coin into the air and caught it in the same hand; most people would have finished the ritual by slapping the coin onto the back of their other hand but Reed didn’t believe in that; he simply opened his hand to reveal a smiling clown face.
“Hah! Fortune smiles, another day of wine and roses for us,” Angela said. Then turning to Devlin, “or in your case, beer and pizza!”
“I don’t know why you guys flip that stupid coin for,” Devlin said in response. “It doesn’t actually influence your decision of whether or not to proceed.”
Angela blew raspberry in his direction.
Reed laughed and continued to strip down to his boxers, tossing the pouch onto the sink and handing the rest of the articles of clothing to Angela. Finally he was down to just his “Knight Rider” boxers.
Angela smiled at the age-old under garment and said, “Those too, come on.”
Reed gave Angela an unamused look but pushed the door closed just enough to leave a crack. After a moment of silence Reed’s hand popped out from behind the door with the Trans-am adorned under-garment in its clutches. Angela grabbed the boxers and left the room.
Reed stepped into the shower and turned on the water. After a few minutes of scrubbing his hand passed over the bump on his chest and his whole body came to an abrupt stop. He stood there, water cascading down his body, his eyes frozen, unwilling to look at the spot. Reed knew he must; whether his eyes would let him or not he would not forget the pain. He forced his neck to bend; to look at the area; at the scar in the shape of kissing lips and the tattoo that would not let him forget her name. There on his chest, inscribed in the horrible black ink just below the wound reading: “From Charlotte, with Love.” Reed closed his eyes and imagined her face; red hair, green eyes, and a mischievous smile bewitching fair. His heart felt like it might explode right then. He squeezed his eyes shut in a grimace trying to find the strength to bear it all.

Angela went downstairs to the laundry room and popped in the coins along with the load; then she sat down on a table and opened an issue of “People” magazine. Before she could even read the first sentence she came to a revelation and her eyes jumped from the page. She’d just told Reed to take a shower…which never ended well. For the longest time she wondered why Reed always came out of the shower in a bad mood; but once she saw the tattoo she understood. Reed would want to drink and Angela figured she would save him the trip by seeing if the hotel had a winery. She got up and walked out of the laundry room in a rush.

Matthew Brice and two other officers in a separate car pulled up to the Marriott hotel and got out. Together they walked in and up to the front desk.
Matt spoke. “Hello, we’re here from the Camden P.D. looking for a dangerous fugitive by the name of Reed Newton. He’s um, about six-foot-two with messy brown hair and he’s been known to frequently wear leather jackets. Anyone like that check in here?”
The clerk shook his head, holding up his end of the deal. “No, no one like that at all.”
Matt looked at the two officers and they turned to leave. “Thanks anyway,” Matt said.
The clerk nodded in acknowledgement as Matt left as well. Matt went back out into the constantly chilling air just as the other two officers were getting in their car. He looked around and noticed that one of the cars in the parking lot had one of their rear reflectors busted. He walked over to the car and saw that it was an early model Plymouth Barracuda whose taillights had been shot out! Matt gasped and ran back toward the police officers, but they pulled out of the parking lot and didn’t notice him.
“Guys wait! He’s here! His car’s here and everything!” Matt shouted, but to no avail; the cops were gone.
Matt slowed to a stop and sighed, then he looked back at the hotel. A determined look spread over his face and he stomped back in without thinking.
“Back again, I see,” the clerk said cheerily.
Matt suddenly grabbed him by the collar and yanked him over the counter up to his face. “Alright, where is he?” he growled.
“Who?” the clerk tried to maintain innocence.
“Reed Newton!” Matt barked. “I know he’s here. I saw his car parked outside. Now you tell me where he is and maybe I won’t bust you for aiding and abetting a known fugitive!”
The clerk’s face changed from fear to consideration, then he said, “Third floor, room 3-22.”
“Good.” Matt dropped him and ran up the stairs.

Reed got out of the shower and toweled off; drying his hair with the towel and then neglecting to comb it back into place like usual. He pulled on one of the MARRIOT HOTEL robes and stepped back out into the room. Devlin was still watching T.V. and there was absolutely nothing quiet about it. He needed time to ponder so he went out into the halls. Maybe he’d go get something to drink, too.
Reed covered his eyes with his hand in typical miserable fashion and staggered blindly down the halls.
“Reed Newton,” a stern voice said.
Reed uncovered his eyes to gaze upon a police detective with a .40 caliber Beretta trained on him.
“Exactly how I expected to find you,” Matt continued, “in an expensive suite, living like a bigwig.”
Reed raised an eyebrow and answered, “This isn’t mine,” indicating the robe.
“It doesn’t matter,” Matt said. “You’re under arrest for the murder of David Jacobs.”
“I didn’t kill Laurel’s husband,” Reed defended. “It’s your dirty damn cops. I can’t prove it yet, but I will. Just ask your colleague, Kolden.”
Matt’s face changed to one of mild shock, but only for a moment; then he shook his head and got back on topic. “Whatever, where is Laurel, too? You’re both under arrest.”
“I don’t think I’ll let you arrest me today, Detective,” Reed said.
Suddenly Matt heard a feminine grunt of exerted force, and then he felt something outrageously hard hit him on the back of the head. His vision darkened and he collapsed to the ground, face first.
“I’m surprised the bottle didn’t break,” Angela said.
“What kind is it?” Reed asked.
“Um, Brandy,” she answered.
Reed let out a “Blech.”

Amidst all of the commotion, no one was aware that Laurel had all of the answers in her hand as she sat quietly in her room.
“Who’s justice?” she whispered to herself in the darkness. “David’s justice.” After moment of thought she raised her voice to the security box. “Justice.” The box beeped in response and kicked open. Laurel gaped at her good fortune and began pulling out the evidence.
Everything was there; pictures of people involved, an itinerary David compiled from several other pieces of evidence, and a note.

Laurel; if you are reading this then I have indeed failed and a terrible burden now rests on your shoulders. I am most likely unable to help you physically anymore but I have left these copies of my investigation to help you bring the hammer of justice down on their heads.
I have uncovered the terrible truth that many high ranking officers in the Camden police department are involved in this scheme. This scheme I speak of is a heist that is targeted at a bank van carrying over $2,000,000 to the Commerce Bank at 501 Mickle Blvd. The money is a grant that will fund a brand-new anti-crime initiative in Camden to give police officers new equipment and a major tax cut for the citizens. It is all very confusing to me. If the money is going to benefit the police department; why would the police officers themselves want to steal the money? That is a mystery that you’ll have to solve, Laurel.
The van will leave the Federal Reserve Bank in Philadelphia at 12:00 pm on July 14th. Once it crosses Benjamin Franklin Bridge the van will be in Camden and will pull onto Penn St. It will make a right onto Broadway and it will continue until it comes to Mickle Blvd. There it will make another right and arrive at the bank; only it won’t make it to the bank. The van is only protected by three security guards and I am sure that the police will have way more men attacking than they can handle.
I’m counting on you to bring the corrupt police of this town to justice. I’ll pray for you. Good luck.
Love,
David

Tears were streaming down Laurel’s cheeks by the time she finished reading it. After a while of sobbing, she managed to squeak out a loud, “Reeeeeed!”

9)
“Well fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke!”

Matt awoke later in one of the hotel rooms. He’d been tied to a chair with several yards of plastic rope; completely incapacitated. He flexed his muscles and tried to break the small rope, but to no avail. Suddenly he noticed the figure sitting on the edge of the bed in front of him.
“You gonna kill me?” Matt asked Reed.
“No,” Reed answered, wringing his hands. “No sense in it.”
“So what’s the plan?” Matt inquired.
Reed smiled wryly at the absurd question. “We’re going to visit one of the more influential people in town and make for certain that we’re cleared.”
“Who?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you later,” Reed answered. “for now, just know that we’re not the bad guys.” Reed tossed a pile of papers onto Matt’s lap and walked out.
“Hey, you can’t leave me like this!” Matt shouted, writhing in the chair; the papers spilling onto the floor.
Reed didn’t stop. Matt continued trying to break the ropes; swearing and screaming for help. Then he noticed the scatter of papers that had been given to him, and after a few moments of study, he gasped.

Reed came out of the room with the rest of the gang waiting patiently. “Where’s this District Attorney live, Laurel?”
“In a house at the base of Big Mannington Hill” she answered.
“Seriously?” Angela spit. “The Big Man lives at the base of Big Mannington Hill?”
Laurel nodded sheepishly.
“And he works in Camden?” Devlin asked. “Geez, the guy must spend an hour or more a day in transit.”
“He works from home mostly,” Laurel put in, “having David do the heavy lifting.”
Reed walked away with the rest of the gang in tow.
“Alright, we can’t trust anyone,” Reed said as he marched. “According to those papers, there were at least two top dogs running the show, but David couldn’t figure out who they were, or why they’d want to do this. So, this District Attorney could very well be the man we’re after.”
Reed took a second to turn toward the clerk and swing his fist over the desk. The punch hit the clerk square in the mouth and he fell to the ground.
Reed turned casually back to his path simply continued out the door. “Angela, I want you and Devlin outside to watch if we’re safe. I may not be sure it’s safe for a while but just keep waiting, Okay?”
“Okay,” Angela immediately replied.
Reed turned to Devlin. “Okay?”
Devlin had been chewing his fingernail. He looked up and said, “Okay!” plaintively. Reed turned away slowly, unsure of Devlin’s strength in this matter.
“Wait,” Angela interjected. “What exactly is going to happen?”
“On July 14th at about one o’ clock in the afternoon, a bank van on its way to the Commerce Bank in New Jersey will be robbed by the local police posing as common thieves,” Reed explained.
“Holy shit. That’s today,” Devlin put in.
“And it’s already almost 11:00!” Angela said.
“That’s right.” Reed said as he crossed the parking lot. “That’s why we’re going to see this District Attorney and give him a copy of this evidence. Then I’m going to the heist location while you guys make sure the other copy gets to the New Jersey Supreme Court in Morristown.”
“Monetary gain, Reed!” Angela smiled.
Laurel suddenly piped up. “What?” she asked in shock.
Reed stopped and turned to look dead into her eyes. “Look, whether your opinion of me is good or not, Laurel, one fact remains: I am a thief, and I’m going to make sure I get that money before they do. Better me than them. You can stay here if you like but we’re going to follow through with the plan.”
The gang walked away while Laurel stood in shock with a despairing look on her face. As they got in the car, Angela turned to see if Laurel would follow; hoping with all of her being that she would. Only after Reed started the car did Laurel let out a sob and run to them. Angela re-opened the door and Laurel jumped into Angela’s open arms. She sobbed while Angela held her. The insanity and hopelessness of the situation had apparently caught up to her.
Reed and Devlin turned to look at the scene. Upon turning back, Reed muttered, “Women.”
Reed pulled out of the parking lot and headed south to Big Mannington Hill.
Traffic was heavy. At 11:00 p.m. the New Jersey rush hour was still going strong. Reed was thankful though; the multitude of cars meant that there was less chance of them being spotted by a patrolling police car. Once they got off the highway and turned onto Mullica Hill Rd. the traffic thinned out significantly and Reed slowed to what felt like an almost complete stop thanks to the velocitation. Laurel had cried herself to sleep on Angela because she hadn’t slept much the previous night.
Reed’s phone suddenly rang; the ending theme of “The Incredible Hulk.” Reed dug it out of his pocket, flicked it open, and looked at the name; it read “ID BLOCKED.”
Reed put it up to his ear and asked, “Who’s this?”
“That’s no way to answer the phone, Mr. Newton.”
The deep monster voice struck a chord in Reed’s mind. “How did you get my number?”
“I have your friend’s phone right here. I also have an Angela, a garage, a mom, and several other names on this list.”
Reed glanced at Devlin. “Yeah well, that’s why I don’t keep a contacts list.”
“Who are you talking to, Reed?” Angela asked.
“Some spook,” Reed answered.
“Spook, Reed? You’re very disrespectful, but I can look past almost any character flaw as long as the person in question is skilled at their craft.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Reed asked. The man was apparently milking this monster voice for all it was worth with his archaic pattern of speech. Reed was quickly becoming irritated.
“Despite all of our attempts to have you terminated or captured, you remain alive and unincarcerated. We even found one of our officers crushed under a pile of debris. was that your doing, too?”
“Nope. That was Laurel actually,” Reed answered.
“Hmm, nonetheless, you’ve piqued my interest, Mr. Newton. Perhaps you could see your way fit to stop this foolishness and work for me? You would receive many incentives and be paid handsomely.”
“That’s a tempting offer, and I’m definitely interested. Maybe after I clear mine and Laurel’s name I’ll take you up on that,” Reed smiled. “That is, if I don’t end up killing you first.”
The voice scoffed then.
“I tell you what; why don’t you give me your number and I’ll call you back later?” Reed said.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible Mr. Newton.”
Reed furrowed his eyebrows. “What? You mean you don’t want me calling you up on your phone?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, now you know how I feel.” Reed snapped his phone closed and smiled.
Angela giggled. “Nice.”
After another long while of driving, Reed pulled over to the side of the road in front of an elongated driveway.
“And I didn’t think there was any money in law enforcement.” Reed said. “Angela, wake her up.” He was indicating Laurel.
“Laurel,” Angela whispered, tapping her on the cheek. “Time to wake up.”
Laurel opened her eyes and lifted her head off of Angela’s breast. “Are we there?”
“You tell us; is this the place?” Reed said.
Laurel shook her head. “I don’t know. I was never here.”
Reed rolled his eyes and opened his door. “Let’s go see, then.”
Laurel hopped out of the car and followed Reed.
“Devlin, park the car in a good hiding spot and wait for us,” Reed ordered as he walked.
Devlin moved to the driver seat and shut the door while Angela hopped into the passenger seat. He pulled onto the grass and found a spot around the hill and away from the road yet still in view of the end of the driveway.
As Reed and Laurel walked up the driveway, Laurel asked, “So, what do we do if this guy really is one of the bad guys?”
“Don’t worry; I’ve got a plan.” Reed lifted his jacket up to reveal the butt of a gun.
“Where did you get that?” Laurel asked. “I thought you tossed your gun?”
“This is that detective’s police issue Beretta,” Reed answered.
“Oh, right.” Laurel seemed to becoming more comfortable with Reed’s ways.
Reed stopped in front of the door and rang the doorbell. A tinny, generic melody resounded in the house in response. After another moment, a well aged man with a balding crown opened the door. A look of shock and fear spread over his face and he gasped.
“Yeah, I get that reaction a lot,” Reed muttered
The man tried to close the door but Reed stopped the door with his hand and smacked it back open. The man was power walking to the phone but Reed chased him down and grabbed him by his stupid red sweater.
“You don’t have to fear me, Mr. Attorney.” Reed growled the words menacingly in spite of himself.
“What do you want?” the D.A. asked.
“To present you with evidence that will clear our names. We didn’t kill your assistant,” Reed answered.
The District Attorney’s face went from fear to a calculated, empty, misunderstanding look. “Okay… let’s talk out on the patio. My house keeper will fix us some lemonade.”
The District Attorney’s name was Richard Comber; a widower who’d been working for the New Jersey justice system for more than a dozen years now. He had done very well for himself in his profession and had an actual French maid. No children, but two cars he loved to talk about. One was a Mercedes-Benz that Reed had no interest in, but the other was a stylish red and black 1966 Oldsmobile 442 that Comber referred to as his “baby.” Reed made a mental note to return later to “kidnap” his “baby.”
The maid set the tray with three lemonade glasses in the middle of the cabana table and said, “Dois-je tenir est yeux la connais, monsieur?”
“Yeah, dismissed,” Comber answered, waving her away.
“I’m not going to steal anything.” Reed interjected.
Comber looked at him a little surprised, but the he managed a smile and said, “you speak French?”
“A little,” Reed answered. “I know how to speak Latin, which helps with a lot of European languages.”
Comber nodded; impressed.
The maid bowed slightly and walked away. Reed leaned over his chair and watched the voluptuous blonde’s hips undulate with her legs motion; suddenly becoming very envious of the D.A. Just then the maid glanced back at Reed and smiled, very aware of her power over him. Reed smiled a large, glee stricken grin and shifted back into his chair.
Laurel immediately took big swig of her drink.
“Now,” Comber started. “What’s this evidence you have to show me?”
Laurel looked at the security box lying on the table and repeated the password to it. Once it opened she pulled out the various papers and handed them to Reed. Reed selected a few of the papers and flopped them on the table for the D.A.’s perusal.
Reed started his speech then. “Alright, the evidence here was compiled by David Jacobs in an effort to stop the New Jersey Citizen Relief Fund from being stolen. He first learned of this heist a few months ago, not long after it was announced that the money would be transferred. A ghost e-mail from an unknown sender was sent to his e-mail address; maybe on accident, he didn’t know. This e-mail spoke in very vague terms but it asked if he wanted to get out of the city with a hefty sum of cash, stating a bank van was the target. It also gave a ghost number for parties interested; a phone number that would only be open for about an hour on a certain date for security purposes. He called this number at the correct time and they asked him his name. He answered that he was the Assistant District Attorney and instead of turning him away they gave him a location where all of the accepted parties would meet and discuss the plan. David didn’t show up but he was present. He sat up on the roof of a building across the street with a telephoto lens and snapped pictures of the people who attended. There were two leaders. He knew this because there were two people who arrived hours before everyone else. They were very good about hiding their identity though, so he didn’t know who they were. Then others started to arrive; in unmarked cars but he recognized them as cops. He took their pictures; Elaine Kolden, Marcus Greenwich, Tom Hutchison, the list goes on.” Reed tossed the pictures onto the table. “After only a little more investigation, David found that most of these cops were assigned to protect the van once it entered New Jersey in a four man motorcade. The bank van will be blockaded on its trip by a car with four masked men in it; the motorcade would, at this time, abandon the van, claiming later that they couldn’t handle the situation. David figured that the robbers would also be cops; and sure enough, four cops have retired in the last month.”
After a long while of silent consideration, Comber asked, “Why didn’t David come to me with any of this information?”
“He didn’t know if he could trust you,” Reed answered flatly.
Comber’s eyes went dark and forlorn. “Then why not the bank?”
Reed shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t have the evidence he needed then and planned taking it all to them the morning after he was killed.”
Laurel had finished her lemonade.
“Here, let me get more lemonade for you,” Comber said, grabbing the glass and heading back into the house; shutting the sliding door behind him.
Laurel yawned. “Think he’s legit?”
“Maybe,” Reed answered. “I’m gonna go see something.”
Reed got up and opened the door; peering in furtively and then sneaking inside. The moment the door was closed behind him, Laurel lost the rest of her strength and she collapsed onto the table; unconscious. Reed heard voices in the next room, so he crept up to the door jamb and stuck his head in. The room was the District Attorney’s office. Standing next to the desk, talking on the phone with voice distorter in hand, was the D.A.
“Reed Newton and Laurel Jacobs are at the District Attorney’s Residence right now,” he said in the monster voice. “take some men and kill him, kill them both!”
Reed stepped fully into the room. “Clever. So not even your henchmen know who’s really pulling the strings.”
The moment Comber whirled around to face him. Reed pulled out the detective’s gun and pointed it at him. “Don’t try anything.”
The D.A. exhaled a bunch of air and hung up the phone. “So, are you going to shoot me, Mr. Newton? Then the authorities will have a legitimate reason to label you a killer.”
Reed clicked the safety off. “I’m used to it.”
The arrogant D.A. put his hands in his pockets. “Don’t you get it Mr. Newton? You can’t use the law against me. I am the law!”
“I don’t care about the law,” Reed retorted. “This is justice.”
Suddenly something struck Reed on the back of the head and he fell to his knees. Darkness began to overtake his vision but he forced his constantly weakening muscles to turn his head. His last conscious sight was the bottom of a maid’s uniform as he flopped onto the hardwood floor.
Detective Brice was still tied to the chair in the hotel room at this time. His voice had faded greatly from yelling for help for an hour and a half and he’d given up on breaking the bonds. Finally at around noon, a cleaning woman opened the door to the hotel and came in.
“Oh my god, thank you!” Brice shouted. “Help me, please!”
“Dios mio!” she uttered at the sight.
“Oh crap, a Spanish chick,” Brice moaned. “Uh… isocorro, por favor! Come on!”
The cleaning woman nodded and went to his side, where she grabbed the top part of the rope and pulled up on it; trying to get it over his head. The rope was too tight and it wouldn’t stretch that far.
After a short while the woman gave up and started walking away, saying: “Uno momento, yo te llamada los policia.”
“Policia, yeah! Get them!” Matt urged.
The woman left and Matt smiled at the thought of being the person who gets to bring this new evidence in to Sergeant Nitch.

Reed didn’t pass out completely. His vision was considerably blurred and he really couldn’t move, but he was vaguely aware of his surroundings. The maid grabbed him by his jacket; and then he felt like he was being dragged across the floor; hardwood, over a door jamb, then across tile. After a short while he was pulled around a corner, then a pause; the sound of a door opening, then more dragging; down stairs, into darkness; then nothing.
Reed woke up to fingers snapping in front of his face. “Wake up,” the D.A. ordered.
Reed opened his eyes slowly. There was a bright light shining into his eyes and they were extra-sensitive to it. His head throbbed and the D.A.’s voice wasn’t exactly clear.
“Head hurt?” Comber asked. Reed didn’t answer but he continued anyway. “Well, a waffle iron to the back of the head will do that to you.”
Reed blinked furiously; trying to get his eyes to focus.
Comber noticed this. “Stay with me Mr. Newton. We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet.”
Reed’s vision had begun to clear and he looked around the room. It was littered with shiny, sharp objects; and the detective’s gun was sitting on a table. The place appeared to be a basement where the D.A. fulfilled some pretty sick fantasies. Reed was suddenly snapped into awareness. He looked around frantically; trying to find a way out. He’d been tied to the arms and legs of the chair he was sitting in with wire. Even now it was digging into his wrists and ankles.
Just then, Reed heard a feminine groan to his right. Reed turned his head to the noise. Laurel was tied to a chair near him, and she was just waking up. Reed also noticed the French maid standing near the door.
Comber smiled. “Ohh, awake now; are you Laurel? Good. I was hoping to get to you first.”
Comber grabbed a knife from the table on his left. Walking over to Laurel; he ran the knife down her cheek… hard. Laurel groaned only a little at first, but then blood started to flow from the wound and she began screaming ever louder. The D.A.’s horrendous smile only grew broader at the sound.
“You motherfucker!” Reed roared. “I’ll fuck you up for this!”
“Ohh,” Comber turned to look at him. “So you must be jealous then? Did you want to go first?”
Reed didn’t answer; he just held his angry stare.
“Alright then,” Comber continued. “Now… where to start?” In that moment he noticed the bloody bandage on Reed’s hand and smiled his sick grin. “Perfect.”
Reed got the point quickly and started trying to break out of his chair with fear-stricken urgency.
Comber grabbed a jar of salt and set it down on the table next to Reed. He bent down and started to remove Reed’s bandage. There Reed threw himself forward and bit into Comber’s ear! Capillary blood drizzled from the wound and into Reed’s mouth. Reed would describe it as a metallic taste; copper-like.
Comber finally pulled himself away. “Fucker!” he growled; holding his bleeding ear. Suddenly he swung his fist at Reed. Reed ducked his head down so the D.A. hit him on the crown. He didn’t want his lip busted; lest their two bloods mix. This also caused Comber to recoil in pain; holding his hand.
“Violet, hold him!” He barked.
The maid walked up behind Reed with a wire. She looped it under his chin and pulled it against his neck. Reed was forced to keep his head back to relieve the strangling pressure. Once Reed had been completely incapacitated, Comber went back in and tore the bandage off Reed’s hand. The freshly exposed wound was immediately tender in the open air. Comber grabbed the jar of salt and poured an excessive amount of it onto the laceration.
Reed screamed in pain as the salt burned into the repairing flesh like acid. Reed’s body went instantaneously tense as his muscles flexed and strained against his bonds with new-found vigor. Suddenly the left arm of the chair let out a scream of its own as the wood splintered and then shattered. Reed swung the free hand up and punched Violet in the face. She let go of the wire and staggered back against the wall. Upon coming back down, Reed drove the newly exposed nail of the armrest directly into Comber’s neck! Comber fell to the ground as blood drained out of the hole; trying in vain to stop the arterial flow.
Reed used his free hand to snap the other armrest off the chair, then lunged the chair forward to grab a knife off of the D.A’s table. With knife in hand, he began sawing away at the wire around his legs. Violet recovered and dove on him; clawing at his face with her nails; uttering what Reed could only guess were French curse words. The searing claws drew streaks of blood down the left side of his face. Reed reached around with his free hand, grabbing the back of her hair, and then drove the knife into her gut. Her face suddenly changed from an expression of anger to shock and disbelief. Reed returned the stare with one of rage and primal fury. For a moment they stayed in that cold embrace; but after a time Reed could feel her blood warm against his hand and he pulled the knife back out. He let her turn onto her back and examine the wound, after which she let out one last gasp of sepulchral air, and died; eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Reed stared angrily at the corpse for a moment, then continued about the task of sawing the wire off of his legs. Soon the wire fell away and Reed was free. He stood and threw the knife back onto the table.
There he looked down at the maid. “What a waste.”
Reed then snatched up the detective’s gun; returning it to its resting place at his belt. Then he took a rag and wiped as much salt as he could off of his hand. It burned with every stroke but he grimmaced all the way to the end. In that moment he heard Comber cry out and his head slowly turned toward the fallen D.A.; a look of malice playing across his face. He let out a low growl as he stomped toward him, grabbed him by what hair he had left, and began viciously bashing his head against the stone wall. He did it again and again and again until he was sure the D.A. was dead. However, a moment later he finished up with an angry kick to the stomach.
“Reed!” Laurel called.
Reed snapped out of his rage and went to her aid; snatching up the knife again and releasing her from her bonds.
“Thank you, Reed, for…killing them,” Laurel said. “I understand why you did it.”
Reed seemed confused by her statement. “You make it sound like I needed you to understand,” he answered finally.
Laurel didn’t have a response for that.
After a while of silence Reed said, “Let’s go.”
Reed grabbed Laurel by the wrist and pulled her along as he made his way up the stairs. He opened the door and led her outside.


Devlin and Angela were still sitting in the car at the end of the driveway. They’d been waiting for the signal from Reed for a long time and had taken to playing a spirited game of wha they called “List.”
“Chrysler,” Devlin said.
“Car,” Angela responded.
“Gas,” Devlin came back.
“Diesel.”
“Unleaded.”
“Leaded.”
“Pencil.”
“That’s not lead; it’s graphite,” Devlin corrected.
“Fine; a mine,” Angela changed her answer.
“Miners,” Devlin continued.
“Digging.”
“Moles.”
“Blemishes.”
“Wait.”
“What does that have to do with-?”
“No, wait,” Devlin held his hand up to stop her.
Angela saw that Devlin was staring into the distance and she followed his gaze down the road. Three black cars were pulling up to the end of the driveway. Ten big men in black masks and vests stepped out; along with Officer Hutchison, whose arm was still bandaged from the bullet wound Reed gave him and now sported a leg brace and crutch.
“Shit,” Devlin breathed. “I thought that guy was dead.”
The men proceeded to get guns out of the trunks of the cars; assault shotguns, assault rifles and the like.
“We need to warn Reed.” Devlin started the car.
Angela was confused. “What are you doing?”
“We’re going through there,” Devlin answered.
Angela gasped. “Don’t you even think about it!”
“I never do.”
Devlin slammed down the accelerator and the car roared; the wheels kicking up dirt and the muffler spraying smoke. The Cuda sped across the grass toward the gang. The goon at the front of the pack heard the noise and peered in its direction; a look of utter terror spreading over his face. He screamed loudly just as Devlin turned the car at a forty-five degree angle and hit him with the back end. The man’s legs were swept out from under him and his face smacked against the trunk just before his body was tossed 10 feet onto the grass; motionless. A blood stain was smeared on the black mantle of the Cuda.
Devlin hit the gas again; this time the wheels kicked up the gravel on the driveway. The goons were assailed by flying rocks and dirt as the two sped away.
Hutchison regained his composure after the incident. “Sh-shoot ‘em!”
The goons lifted their guns back into firing position and took pot shots at the two. A couple of the bullets broke the other tail light and put a bunch of holes in the trunk, but after Devlin and Angela rounded a bend in the driveway they were safe. As they sped up to the estate they spotted Reed and Laurel just coming out of the house. Devlin hit the brakes and swerved to a complete stop.
Reed immediately noticed the bullet-holes in the trunk and freaked. “What the shit happened to my car?”
“You swore,” Angela muttered.
Devlin hopped out of the car and jogged up to Reed. “Reed! We were just waiting for your signal when a bunch of armed gunman pulled up. I think they’re here for you!”
Reed looked up the driveway. Sure enough; a bunch of armed men were trooping in their direction. He walked swiftly to the trunk and tried to open it; but it would only budge about an inch. Reed was forced to kneel down and peer into one of the bullet holes. One of the bullets had pierced the release system and twisted it around itself.
Reed took instant decisive action. He pulled out the detective’s gun and said “Stand back!” before unloading the entire clip into the area. The now hopelessly damaged trunk opened of its own volition. Reed threw away the gun and opened the cache; pulling out a sniper rifle and tossing it to Devlin.
“Find a good vantage point,” Reed ordered.
Devlin nodded and ran off.
Reed then pulled out two Ruger .45 caliber ACP pistols and a sash of fragmentation grenades; throwing it around his shoulder. At that he crouched down behind the Barracuda and said, “You two; find somewhere to hide!”
Angela took Laurel’s hand and the two girls ran inside the house.
Reed peeked his head over the top of the car. The attackers were obviously not trained officers. They assumed no attack formation and appeared to have no qualms about running into an open field. Suddenly there was the loud report of a sniper rifle and one of the goons collapsed to the ground. The others went into a panic and fired blindly at the house. Reed ducked back behind the car as the bullets connected with the broad side of the car.
“Geez, it’s like some divine prank,” Reed muttered to himself. They haven’t won yet so far, and yet they keep trying!” Bullets hit the Barracuda again and Reed tucked his head down into his collar to avoid any that might find him. The firing ceased for a moment and Reed brought his head back up; twirling the guns on his fingers. “Well fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke!”
Reed jumped up from behind the car and began unloading on the goons with both guns. Immediately two of them twisted in reaction to impact and crumpled to the ground. The rest of the goons opened fire on Reed and Reed fell back behind the car. He moved to the other end of the car and poked out with guns blazing. A goon was running toward him. When the bullets hit he stumbled for a moment before falling onto the grass.
The goons finally got wise and fell to the ground in prone position. Another sniper report sounded and a swift plume of blood sprayed out of one of the goon’s heads. One group of goons saw the muzzle flash and began firing on the bushes. Devlin jumped from behind them and ran for the trees. Reed saw him running. Halfway there, a bullet caught Devlin just above the Achilles Tendon and he fell to the ground.
Reed pulled a grenade off of his sash and pulled the pin out. “One-onethousand, two-onethousand, three-onethousand,” he counted, and then lobbed it at the group.
It was a well thrown grenade. It landed on one’s back and rolled to a point maybe two feet behind them. The three rolled over to look at it just as a huge plume of fire and destruction exploded into their faces!
Only one more goon remained; Reed knew. He peeked over the car and saw him holed up with a cop near a lonely bush that broke the clearing.
“Hutchison!” Reed growled,. “Thought I killed that guy!”
Reed glanced back over at Devlin; he’d began crawling over to the trees.


“Maybe we should just get out of here,” Hutchison’s last goon cried to him. “They had position on us the moment we got here and we were slaughtered!”
“I’m all for that,” Hutchison replied. “Let’s go!”

Reed looked back over the car and saw the two get up and run for the driveway. He was relieved. He didn’t really want to risk his life trying to attack their position. He put the guns in his jeans and stood up.
After a brief moment of thought he turned and looked back at them. ‘No,’ he thought. ‘Hutchison’s not leaving.’
Reed walked back to the trunk and pulled out a Remington 870 semi-automatic shotgun; then he turned and ran after them. The goon had already far outdistanced Hutchison; who was slowed by his broken leg. Reed caught up to him swiftly. He raised the shotgun and fired it into Hutchison’s other leg. The buckshot tore into the muscle tissue of his calf and shredded it.
“Oh! My leg!” Hutchison screamed as he fell to the ground.
“That was for Devlin,” Reed said to him; pumping the gun.
Hutchison rolled onto his back and began inching away from the constantly advancing madman.
“Please don’t kill me!” Hutchison pleaded.
Reed ignored him. “Ya know, I don’t get it. Where did you get all of these guys from? Cuz I’ve been trying to get some hired help for a while now and I just don’t know where to look! Is there a phone number? Huh? 1-800-HENCHMEN?”
Reed fired at him again; this time shredding his previously uninjured left arm. Hutchison’s other hand grasped the wound as he screamed in pain.
“That was for Laurel,” Reed continued; re-pumping the shotgun. “This is all your fault.”
Hutchison had scooted backward far enough that he came to a rock and rested his head on it. “You kill me and you’re a dead man- oomf!”
Reed shoved the barrel of the shotgun into his mouth. “And this is for me.”
Hutchison’s face turned deep red, his eyes began to water, and he let out a long, pitiful, squeal.
Someone, somewhere screamed, “Noooo!”
Reed heard the voice but paid no attention to it. He pulled the trigger; a spatter of blood spraying onto his face.
Reed stared at what remained of Hutchison’s face for a long while; a look of cold, calculating, indignation on his own face.
“Why did you do that!?”
Reed snapped out of his trance and looked to see that it was Laurel who had screamed.
She rushed from the front door of the house, ran across the field, and began beating her fists on Reed’s chest. “You don’t have to kill!” Laurel was in tears. Suddenly her strength failed her and she dropped her head onto his chest, sobbing. “You don’t have to kill.”
“He would have only caused me more problems later,” Reed muttered to her.
Laurel stopped crying; instead she looked up at his face in shock. His response was so unbelievably cold.
Devlin came limping out of the trees. “Guys, I need some bandages or something.”
Reed walked away from Laurel and helped to hold him on his feet. He threw Devlin’s arm over his shoulders and carried him to the car. There Devlin sat down in the front seat while Reed got bandages from the emergency kit.
Devlin looked around at the car. “Well, I know what I’m doing when I get back.”
Reed smiled as he unwrapped the gauze from its packaging. “I’m glad you’ll stay on.”
“Yeah well, you pay me too well to do something I enjoy,” Devlin said.
Reed was surprised. He thought he had to worry about Devlin’s strength, and he turned out to be the most stalwart. Reed deftly applied the bandages and patted on the area after he was finished.
“There you go,” he said.
Reed proceeded to re-dress his own hand and clean the scratches on his face; then he did the same for Laurel’s new scar.
“Reed, we need to get going. It’s already past twelve thirty!” Angela’s voice sounded.
Reed was shocked. He looked at his own watch to confirm and suddenly jumped to his feet. “Crap! Alright, get going to Morristown. Take the Cuda.” Reed tossed his keys to Angela.
“But Reed, all this damage will probably earn us cop trouble,” Angela replied.
“Good, show them the evidence and they’ll probably help you get to Morristown,” Reed answered.”
“What are you going to do?” Laurel asked.
“I’ll find a ride,” Reed said vaguely.
“So you’re still going to rob that van?” Laurel asked accusingly. “Even after killing all of these people; it’s not enough?”
Reed got angry. He didn’t appreciate Laurel’s opinion of his actions. “Yes!” Reed stormed toward the house in a huff.
“Laurel you’re being unfair to him!” Angela said to her.
“He’s just a killer!” Laurel shoved herself into the backseat with a huff.
Devlin eased himself into the front passenger seat and Angela sat down in the driver’s seat.
“You just wish he wasn’t because you like him and you want him to change to meet your needs,” Angela muttered.
“What was that?” Laurel asked angrily.
“Nothing.” Angela started the car.
The car didn’t sound too well. It made the unhealthy chug chug chug of an engine in distress. Angela looked coyly at Devlin; who smiled in response. They pulled away from the house and headed down the driveway.

Reed went straight into the D.A.’s office and flipped open a small box sitting on the top of his desk. Inside the box was a pair of shiny keys. “Predictable as the tides,” Reed said, taking them, along with Comber’s voice distorter.
Next he ran out to the garage and opened it with the remote. As the door lifted, Reed’s smile grew broad. Sitting pleasantly next to a Mercedes-Benz CLK was Comber’s gen-u-ine 1966 Oldsmobile 442. Reed stared in awe for a moment; then rushed to open the door and hop inside. The seats were leather and a premium stereo system had been installed. Reed felt at home. He started the car and the old engine purred like a kitten. It was a well kept automobile.
“Hey Comber,” Reed said to the shadows. “You don’t mind if I take this, do ya?”
Reed buckled his seat belt and slammed down the accelerator. The car bolted forward with incredible acceleration; much to Reed’s delight. He would need to move fast if he was going to get back to Camden before everything went down.

10)
“Yessah, Uncle Sam. I’sa take your money if you ain’t got a use fo’ it no mo’.”

After the cleaning woman had called the cops, the police hurried over to the hotel and cut Brice loose from his bonds. When they did he immediately gathered the papers from the floor and rushed out of the room. Matt ran down the stairs and out to his car; then he sped to the police station and darted straight to Sergeant Nitch’s office.
“Sergeant Nitch!” Matt shouted as he burst into the room.
“Geez, Matt where the hell have you been?” Nitch asked immediately.
“Reed Newton tied me up and left me in one of the rooms at the Marriot hotel,” Matt huffed. “But that’s not important anymore; this is.”
Matt threw the pile of papers onto Nitch’s desk. “Reed Newton could be innocent.”
Nitch snatched up the papers instantly and studied them; a look of shock, then consternation, then shock again playing across his face.
“And worse yet,” Matt continued, “it would now seem that the bank van carrying the New Jersey citizen relief fund is about to be robbed!”
Nitch looked up from the papers and right into Matt’s face. “…We’ve gotta do something.”
“Well, duh!” Matt shouted. “The van’s already en route. We’ve gotta go now!”
“Alright, let’s go.” Nitch got out of his chair and put his jacket on.
“Yeah- but, just us. Some of the other police officers can’t be trusted,” Matt said.
Nitch hesitated for a moment to consider that proposal, and then said, “Fine.”
Nitch started leading the way down into the car park when Matt suddenly put in: “And I need a gun.”
Nitch stopped and gave him an expressionless look. “Where’s your issue?”
Matt shifted nervously under the gaze. “Umm, well you see--”

The bank van had left The Federal Reserve Bank at exactly 12:00 pm eastern time, escorted by Philadelphia police up until it came to the Benjamin Franklin Bridge. There the police broke away and the van was left to its own devices while it crossed the bridge. At the other side of the bridge the van was joined by four New Jersey motorcycle police.
The bank van had only two security guards in the front seat armed with .38 caliber pistols, and another in the back with standard issue .38. The four policemen that joined the bank van were now completely uncorrupted ones the department was forced to put in place because the four that were supposed to do it could no longer perform their duty. Jeremy Davis had been shot in the chest, Frederick Smith was away with a leg injury, Tom Hutchison has gone missing, and Marcus Greenwich had apparently died when part of the Jacobs’ residence had collapsed on top of him.
The convoy left the bridge and turned onto North Broadway; the bank not far away yet. At the corner of Market and Broadway a red 1986 Fiat Punto pulled in front of the van and barred its path. The driver of the van quickly hit the brakes and stopped almost instantly thanks to the van’s already slow rate of motion.
The driver furiously beeped the horn for the Punto to move. Then without warning, four masked men stepped out of the car with shotguns and opened fire on the police! The two cops at the front of the convoy were thrown off of their rides from the point-blank force of impact. Pedestrians looking on screamed and ran in every direction. The two cops in the back of the convoy jumped off of their motorcycles and made for cover behind the van. The robbers moved confidently like faceless, indestructible machines. One fired another shot and one of the cops fell onto the pavement. The driver of the van punched down the accelerator pedal and the weighty vehicle powered to a slow start.
Robbers one and two hopped onto the doors. They proffered small keys that they stuck into the lock and twisted. The doors opened easily. Then the robber on the passenger side stuck his shotgun into the ribs of the guard in the seat and fired. The pellets tore through his intestines and rib cage like tissue paper. Blood sprayed out and all over the robber’s black garb. There the last living police officer poked out from behind the van and fired twice at the robber. Both bullets hit him in the left lung and he fell off of the still moving vehicle; rolling along the pavement. On the other side, the robber hit the driver in the face with the stock end of the gun and threw his body out, but he was too late. The van careened into the Punto and the robber smacked into the door on his way to the ground.
Robber four ran around the van behind the last officer and shot him in the back. Robber three walked up to the downed driver and shot him cold-bloodedly on the pavement. Robber three then proceeded to run over to robber two and check his vital signs. He was dead.
“Elaine!” robber one shouted.
Robber three looked up at him.
“Bring the car around, Kurt and I will unload the money!”
The robber named Kurt opened the lock on the van with yet another key the officers had pilfered. When he opened the door, the security guard inside immediately squeezed off five shots from his gun in a panic stricken impulse. Kurt shuddered in a death spasm and fell on his back. Robber one sprang from around the corner and fired one shot into the van. The guard was blown backward; smacking into the innermost wall of the van and landing in a sorry looking sitting position.
“Maybe just me,” robber one muttered to himself.
He pulled himself into the van and grabbed a bag full of cash. When Elaine backed the Punto up in front of him and popped the trunk he tossed it inside. The car bounced gently on its leaf springs from the weight.
Elaine got out of the car and started to help him. “Hand me that one, Steve.”
Nitch and Matt pulled up to the scene in shock. It had all already occurred. Matt jumped out of the car immediately and pulled his gun. Nitch stepped out and followed right after.
Matt jogged closer to the two perpetrators still standing and pointed his gun at them. “Drop the money and put your hands in the air! Do it now!”
Just then the barrel of a gun pushed against the back of his head. “No Matt. You drop your gun.”
“Nitch,” Matt growled. “You’re behind all this.”
“Yup,” Nitch answered. “Well, me and Comber were the ones who thought it up.”
The two robbers continued about their business casually.
“But why?” Matt asked. “This money’s going to help the police station clean up the town!”
“Hah!” Nitch spat. “This city can’t be saved! And no amount of money is going to change that! We have the second worst crime rate in the entire United States—in the entire world! This heist is just our way of getting the bureaucrats in Washington to open their eyes to that fact!”
“So you all just gave up on the people,” Matt said.
Nitch ignored him. “It all would have went perfectly if it weren’t for Newton and that do-gooder Assistant District Attorney! I had the idea to use Newton’s family against him, but then we find out from you that he has no family, no friends--not even a dog! Over six billion people on this god-forsaken planet and Hutchison manages to frame a god-damned machine!”
During Nitch’s angry rant, Steve noticed a man crouched down behind the Punto. “Hey, what’re you doing to that car asshole!”
Reed jumped to his feet at the sudden noise and moseyed a ways away from the car as he spoke; getting far enough from the grenade he just stuck in bumper. Umm, anybody got any marshmallows?”
Steve got the point quickly. He gasped and slammed the steel doors of the van shut; leaving Elaine outside.
Suddenly the Punto exploded! Reed dove to the ground and covered his head. Elaine was trapped between the explosion and the van. The blast practically incinerated her. Nitch was shocked by the sudden explosion and Matt took the opportunity to spin around and grab the gun. Nitch didn’t let go and they began to fight for it.
The explosion had left the van doors charred except for an Elaine-shaped area that was not.
Reed stood and started walking casually toward the van. Suddenly the back doors flew open and Steve burst out with the shotgun in hand, screaming like a nut. He fired maniacally at Reed and Reed jumped to the ground behind the burning Punto’s empty shell.
“Screw that,” Reed muttered.
He grabbed another grenade off of his sash and lobbed it over the car at Steve. The grenade flew past Steve and landed in the van. Steve scrambled, grabbed the grenade, and threw it as hard as he could away from him; not realizing the pin hadn’t been pulled. Reed used the time he bought to scurry around the car and hide next to the van. When Steve came back out brandishing the shotgun, Reed kicked the door closed as hard as he could. The door slammed into Steve’s face, causing him to fall back into the van. When the door bounced back open, Reed hopped into view and pumped the rest of his pistol bullets into the man’s chest.
With the last of the robbers dead, Reed glanced over at the two cops; who were still fighting. Then he heaved himself into the van muttering in a satirical black slave accent. “Yessah, Uncle Sam. I’sa take your money if you ain’t got a use fo’ it no mo’.”
With that out of the way, he began transporting the bags into the 442’s trunk; which he had parked around the corner.
After a while of struggling for control of the gun, Nitch finally swung his head to the side and hit Matt in the eye. Matt didn’t let go of the gun; he simply did it back.
On his way back to grab two more bags of cash, Reed looked back at them and shook his head. He said, “Geez, bite him if you have to!” not really talking to either of them in particular.
Matt had apparently heard him. In that moment he lunged forward and sunk his teeth into Nitch’s right hand. Nitch screamed in agony and let go of the gun. It dropped to the pavement. Matt released him and Nitch immediately sprang for the gun again. Matt jumped on top of him and pushed him away. Nitch adjusted and pushed back; being the stronger man, Nitch easily pushed Matt back up onto the sidewalk and into a pole.
Matt uttered a scream of his own and punched Nitch in the ribs. Nitch showed no real reaction to the blow and punched Matt hard across the face. Matt turned halfway around from the force and fell face first to the sidewalk. A small spatter of blood spit out of his mouth. Nitch growled and went in pursuit. Matt kicked backward like a mule and hit him in the stomach. As Nitch hesitated to hold the area; in which case Matt rolled over and wrapped his legs around Nitch’s ankle. He twisted his body hard; throwing Nitch face-first to the ground. Matt immediately jumped on his back and wrapped his arms around his neck; squeezing in a sleeper hold. Nitch struggled to his feet; then threw himself backward onto the ground. Matt struck the cement with a considerable amount of force and he couldn’t manage to hold on. He screamed in agony as his back and head slapped against the concrete sidewalk.
Nitch jumped to his feet and began kicking Brice in the ribs. Matt grabbed the swinging foot and hugged himself against it. Nitch tried to tear the legs free but he only lost his balance and fell on his back again. Matt was done with this. Deleriously, he dove off the sidewalk and reached for his gun. Nitch saw his gun sitting on the ground not too far away from him and he snatched it up. Matt’s diving was physically taxing, but much faster. He nimbly spun around on the ground and aimed his gun at Nitch. Nitch raised his gun to fire at Matt and Matt fired numerous bullets into his chest. Nitch shuddered and fell up against the street pole; his gun flinging into the air. An expression of pain was frozen on his face.
Matt didn’t take the gun off him for a long while. His breathing was so erratic he was shivering. Finally Matt snapped back to reality and he twisted his neck to look back at the armored van. Reed Newton was nowhere to be seen.
Painstakingly, Matt grimaced and pushed himself to his feet. He jogged over to the van and peered inside. To his surprise, a lot of the money was still in place. It seemed Newton had an attack of conscience.
A single dollar bill was resting peacefully on the lip of the back end. It appeared to have a bunch of scribbling on it, Matt picked it up. A short note was penned over George Washington’s face it read:

To the victor,
I have left some money for you to dispense at your discretion. Whether you consider yourself a force of good or evil, I hope you will extend me the same courtesy by not pursuing me any further.
Matt crushed the bill in his hand; looking up to the sky. “You know there’s no way I’m gonna do that.”

East Brunswick, New Jersey>>> 64 miles north of Camden

An hour and a half had passed since the rest of the gang had left Reed at the D.A.’s house. They hadn’t even seen a cop car the whole time, until one sped up right behind them and flashed his lights. Angela pulled over and stopped.
“Alright you guys,” she said. “Just play it cool; We show him the evidence and he leaves us alone.” Angela sounded more sure than she was.
The cop got out of the car and limped up to theirs. He appeared to be sporting a bullet wound on his left leg.
As he came up to the side of the car Angela turned and said. “Yeah, I know; the damage. It’s actually kind of a funny story.”
When she turned to him she was confronted by the barrel of a gun!
“I think I’ve heard this one before,” Smith said coldly.
“Who the hell are you, now?” Devlin asked.
“Shut up and step out of the car!” Smith demanded.
Angela opened the door and got out; grabbing her purse.
“Leave that!” Smith continued to yell.
Angela grimaced and did as she was told. The other two got out of the car as well.
“Get in the car!” Smith motioned toward the cop car with a flick of his gun.
The gang obediently walked to the police vehicle. Devlin opened the back door and they all piled in. With the gang incarcerated, Smith holstered his weapon and picked up the file containing the evidence. He flicked out his lighter and set it on fire.
“Damn it,” Angela breathed. “Reed gives us one job and we can’t even do that.”
Smith threw the burning document onto the road and got in the front of the cop car.
“Where are you going to take us?” Devlin asked.
Smith didn’t answer. He just pulled a very illegal U-turn on the freeway and started driving.
“Who are you?” Devlin persisted.
“Shut up boy!” Smith barked in response.
Laurel finally stopped hanging her head and said, “He’s Frederick Smith; one of the conspirators in the plot to steal the New Jersey Citizen Relief Fund. Only now we can’t prove it.”
“Are you going to kill us?” Angela asked bluntly.
Smith scoffed. “No, you’re going to the police station to be arrested for aiding the escaped convict, Reed Newton.”
After a moment of consideration, Angela leaned forward and whispered in Smith’s ear. “Reed killed your friends. They’re all dead and Reed has the money.”
Smith swung his right hand back and smacked the barricade angrily.
Angela smiled and sat back.
Another hour later the gang arrived back at the police station. Smith got out and opened the back door. “Get out!” he ordered.
The three friends got out of the car and walked solemnly up to the door. Angela opened it and they all went inside.
Smith entered last with a triumphant announcement. “Alright boys! You’re looking at the man who brought Reed Newton’s accomplices to justice!”
In that moment every cop in the station whipped out their guns and pointed them at him.
“We’ve been looking for you, Smith.” Matthew Brice sat at a desk in the middle of the room.
“What the hell is this, Brice?” Smith asked angrily.
Matt deliberately grabbed a pile of papers off of the desk and waved them for him to see. It was the evidence compiled by David Jacobs. Smith’s picture resting right on the top.
11)
“People are strange, when you’re a stranger…”

The New Jersey Police Station Interrogation Room
3:45 pm

Matt conducted the interrogations of Angela Cook, Laurel Jacobs, and Kevin Devlin personally with one question being the main focus: “Where is Reed Newton?” He received varying answers.
Devlin: “Who’s that?”
Laurel: “He’s probably out of the country by now. I really didn’t know him.”
Angela: “Nunya.”
Matt was intrigued by Angela’s answer, “But you do know?”
“Am I going to get a lawyer anytime soon? I know my rights.” Angela leaned forward/.“Which were never read to me by the way.”
Matt heaved a sigh. He would have to throw that partial admission out because no one had read her rights to her. To be realistic, he wasn’t surprised in all the confusion, so he recited to her the Miranda Rights he’d taken such great pains to memorize in his earlier years.
“There,” he continued. “Now will you answer?”
“I want my lawyer,” Angela repeated stoutly.
Matt stood completely upright. “Forget the lawyer. I’m going to turn you guys loose. But I want you to do me a favor.”
“Anything,” Angela said in mock cheer.
Matt bent down; bringing his face real close to hers, and speaking in a low voice so the microphone couldn’t hear. “The next time you see Newton, give him this.” He placed the dollar bill on the table. “And tell him there’s nowhere he can run. I’ll find him.”
Angela began to protest, “But I don’t-.”
“Don’t give me that!” he barked, yet still managing to maintain the whisper. “You just tell him.”
“Alright,” Angela answered, her voice subconsciously dropping to his level. “If I see him, I’ll be sure to tell him.”
“Good. Go.” Matt motioned to the door with his head.
Angela stood timidly and walked to the door. Before she left she turned her head to Matt and said, “Call me sometime, Detective Brice.”
Brice didn’t respond to her proposal. He just stood there; pretending to still be fuming while on the inside he knew the statement had made his day.
Devlin and Laurel were waiting outside when Angela came out.
“He’s letting us go,” Angela told them.
Devlin nodded. “We know.”
The gang began walking down the hall toward the exit. Approaching from the other end of the hall, already in his prison orange, was Smith; accompanied by a guard. His hands and feet were chained together.
The gang smiled simultaneously as they approached.
While passing by, Devlin muttered, “Don’t drop the soap… boy.”
Smith’s response was a swift and violent snap at Devlin with his teeth. Devlin dodged away; fully expecting him to do something. The guard used his nightstick to hit Smith in the thigh, which caused Smith to fall to one knee; and then on the shoulder, which knocked him to the floor. The guard didn’t stop there either. Smith had insulted the guard before with a rude comment about his wife and he was going to make sure he didn’t get any more trouble out of him.
The gang laughed at the sight and continued out the door. Now that they were in the parking lot Angela asked Laurel, “So what will you do now?”
Laurel shrugged. “I don’t know. My whole life was in my house and they burned that down.”
“We’ll send you some money so you can get back on your feet again.” Angela put her hand on Laurel’s shoulder.
Laurel shook her head. “Oh no; you don’t have to do that.”
“I want to,” Angela rebutted.
Laurel smiled in appreciation; a single tear rolling down her cheek.
Angela pulled Laurel toward her and they hugged.
Angela kissed her on the cheek. “Ohh, I’m going to miss you.”
“And I’m going to miss you,” Laurel replied. “How are you getting home?”
“We’re taking the bus,” Angela answered. “Reed will meet up with us later, I’m sure.”
They left their embrace and Angela said, “Hey, you know what? Here, take this!” Angela shoved her phone into Laurel’s hand.
“Oh no; I can’t take this!” Laurel tried to sound like she really didn’t want it.
“No. It’s okay. I’ll get another one.” Angela waved her away. “Reed’s loaded. Besides, we’ll be able to talk all the time now.”
“You’re already talking too much!” Devlin interrupted. “We need to go!”
“He’s right,” Angela said.
Laurel nodded solemnly.
They shared another short embrace and Angela left with Devlin.
Left alone, Laurel sighed and moseyed around the parking lot; thinking. She could draw a little out of their savings and stay at a hotel for a while until the insurance money came for her house. The Marriott was nice.
Suddenly Angela’s phone rang. Laurel picked it up and answered it. “Hello?”
“Angela, where are you guys?” Reed’s voice came over the speaker.
“This is Laurel. Angela gave me her phone. They’re taking a bus back to New York,” Laurel said.
“Huh. So they’re okay though?” Reed asked.
“Yup. Both fine,” Laurel answered.
“Good,” Reed let out a tired sigh, then said, “Soooo hey, now that this is all over maybe we could go out sometime?”
Laurel smiled; vindicated. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t date men who are already in love with someone else.”
“Someone else?” Reed asked.
“Yes. A Charlotte?”
Reed sighed. “She’s not going to be getting in the way anytime soon. She’s… dead. She died a long time ago.”
Laurel shook her head. “I don’t think that matters. Does it?”
Reed considered that for a moment. “No. No, I suppose it doesn’t.”
“She must have been a wonderful lady to have stuck with you this long.. What did you want for her?”
Reed didn’t understand what that could possibly mean. “What?”
“When we were in the morgue, I asked you what you wanted out of life. You said you wanted happiness for Angela, but you stopped before telling me what you wanted for Charlotte.”
Without warning, the line went dead.
Laurel smiled and bit her nail coyly. She had gotten to Reed. At that she turned around and started her long walk.

Reed had shut his phone, turned, and thrown it into the forest. Laurel was never going to be used to find him through his phone if he had a say in it.
Reed got in the Oldsmobile and started it; turning on the radio. “People Are Strange” by The Doors was just starting. Reed nodded in agreement with the song and slipped on his sunglasses. He pressed down on the gas and drove north; leaving New Jersey at last.

Laurel Jacobs stayed at the Marriott Hotel for a week before a package came for her. Inside the package was the security box that once held the evidence that cleared her name. After repeating the password she found inside the money that Angela had promised. Fifty thousand dollars. She nearly fainted.

Detective Matthew Brice quit the New Jersey Police Force a month later with a commendation for bravery and a heartfelt thanks from the people of New Jersey for salvaging what he could of the New Jersey Citizen Relief Fund. Although he was only 32 years of age and only served on the New Jersey Force for two years, he received a pension. The reason he cited for retiring so early was that he was deeply affected by the corruption of the crooked police who participated in the robbery and didn’t feel up to the challenge of carrying it with him. After retiring he became a private investigator; using his pension to fund his investigation into the whereabouts of Reed Newton.

Officer Frederick Smith was tried at the New Jersey Supreme Court for Police Corruption and conspiracy to steal the New Jersey Citizen Relief Fund. He was found guilty by the Grand Jury and is to serve his sentence in The New Jersey State Prison in Newark for no less than ten years. What the courts did not know, was that it was in fact Frederick Smith who drove the knife into David Jacob’s chest eight times; in which case he would have served anywhere from 25 years, to life imprisonment.

Reed Newton returned to New York and went back into hiding, along with the money he took from the New Jersey Citizen Relief Fund. It was an amount of money with a value exceeding $1.2 million dollars. A fraction of the amount was used to pay off Laurel Jacobs one week later. Sometimes he muses at the thought of how she would react if she knew. Devlin stayed on as his mechanic and Angela forever remains his best friend. Reed Newton is still at large today.


The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.

-Edmund Burke

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 08.02.2011

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