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His ribs started hurting again as he spoke. He knew he had to have them checked at the hospital. No reason to tell Maureen about this.
    “Well, if you’re okay, Fred, I won’t bother you. By the way, Judy has left for Colorado.”  
    “She just got here. Why did she leave?”
    “She said our town is too violent for her, so she packed up and said she would wait at the airport for the next plane going anywhere west. She didn’t even have a ticket when she left our house.”
    Fred couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, there’s nothing I can do about Judy. See you late tonight; I’m working on a major case. Love you.”
    “Love you, too, Fred, and make sure you don’t get hurt.”
    It’s much too late for that, he thought.

 
    Chapter 12
     
    John Jackson was about to enjoy a single escape from the harsh reality of his unsettling work week. For the past six months, he always took in the Friday afternoon flick at the downtown theater by himself. It wasn’t easy, but he finally convinced his wife that this was something he needed to do alone, as it was his single outlet from the pressures of an overbearing boss and a host of blood-thirsty subordinates seeking his job. He had really screwed up on his last assignment, and his unrelenting critical boss would not let him forget it. Furthermore, it didn’t take long for the word of his most recent failure to filter throughout the well perfected grapevine of his organization. Now, even his office friends looked the other way when he passed by. There were strong clear signals throughout the office environment that he had become a lame duck.
    As he started to try to relax in the theater’s soft seating, someone passing by nudged his arm; Jackson lost most of his large bag of heavily buttered popcorn. The thin offender offered no apology, rapidly ascending the stairs to the top row of seats. Jackson yelled, “I hope you’re going to pay for my lost popcorn.”
    Receiving no acknowledgement, he screamed, “You idiot!” to firmly reinforce his point. The man again did not respond which upset Johnson even more. He thought about following the man up the steps to confront him directly; but he had noticed that the man was quite tall and most likely physically superior to him.  
    As the movie began, Jackson belatedly realized in his rush he had gone into the wrong theater room. This was another damn documentary. Earlier this year, his wife had virtually forced him to see the McNamara movie on Vietnam, the Gore environmental flick, and the movie that asked the question who killed the battery powered cars. He was tired of all the flicks that provided lessons on how the country was going to pieces; and now, due to his own stupidity he was sitting in another one—a chronological history of the Iraqi war. He decided to sit through a few minutes of it; and if it was as bad as he expected it would be, he would get his money back. This is the last documentary I will ever see, he pledged.  
    Ten minutes into the film, an Iraqi fire fight was shown between Baghdad insurgents and the US military. With the theater’s realistic stereo-surround sound system, it realistically seemed as if bullets were flying all over the theater. They were; suddenly Jackson slumped over his seat, eyes wide open and unmoving—he had been granted his very last wish.

 
    Chapter 13
     
    Fred called Jim Hebert on his intercom. “Jim, is there any information yet on the background of Slivers?”  
    “Yes, we have plenty of information but it sure seems inconsistent with the motive of any bank robber that I have ever heard of. Slivers, it turns out, is the head of a local insurance agency located on Fruitville Road. He has owned the agency for almost a decade, and has been married over thirty years. He has four children, all of whom are now grown.”  
    Jim added, “So far we can find no history of any arrests in his background; and it appears his marriage is more than solid. His previous home was in