"Can I assume from all the shopping we did the other day that I am good for yet another night?"

Des looked annoyed but felt worried. If she told him to leave things would be right back where they started, it would have all been a waste of time and she would be at risk again as would Parker.

"Only if you shower and shave; this isn't a hostel."

"Wow, talk about welcoming. At least at my place you wouldn't be sleeping on a two-seater and living out of a sports bag." He snapped back.

They stared at one another silently, both wanting to speak but afraid of saying the wrong thing. The ringing of the phone was almost drowned out by their mutual sighs.

"Hello?"

"Miss Jones, it's Detective Holt. We have some good news . . . for you anyway."

"Yes?"

"We found the man who tried to kill you and Mr. Nevens."

"Great. You have no idea what a relief that is."

She turned toward Parker, underlining her meaning.

"He was murdered along with the manager of a motel he was staying in out of town."

"Murdered? By whom?"

"I'm good Miss Jones but even I need a little time to solve cases."

"But I- we can go back to normal then?"

"It would appear. I need you both to look at some pictures just to verify we have the right person."

"When do we do that?"

"If you both could make it today then I can get on with being good at my job."

Des told him they would be down within the hour and she hung up giving Parker a genuine smile.

"I guess our problem with accommodation is solved." She went on to explain what the Detective told her and Parker just nodded, gathering up his things and starting to pack.

"Parker, I- don't be angry okay? Neither of us asked for this it just happened and we tried to make the best of it."

"I'm not angry. Guess I don't get my shower either."

He zipped his bag shut so hard he broke a nail.

"Obviously. Look, we are safe again and neither of us lost anything."

So many lines popped into his head he was giddy but to use any of them would have severed their relationship for ever. Instead he pouted and went for a softy.

"You're right. I guess I'm lucky. I started out with nothing and I still have most of it left."

******

"Okay, you both agree then?" Detective Holt scooped up the array of photos and slipped them into his folder.

"That's the guy I saw yanking on Earl's tie," Parker said with certainty.

"Yes, he's the one that barged into our dressing room and came to my apartment," Des agreed.

"Right. I guess that finishes our business together then. I'll get you to sign the statements I'm having typed up and it's back to-" He stopped realizing that they had both lost their employment due to the killing.

"The new normal." Parker offered, looking at Des and then saying a hesitant goodbye.

"Hold on, the statements. I need a couple of minutes yet. I can offer you a ride home if you want." Holt looked between them.

"Yeah, that would be great. Thanks." Des said.

"Mr. Nevens?"

"Nah. I want to walk a bit. Thanks."

A young uniformed policewoman came up and handed Holt a folder. "Here we go. If I can you both to sign these we're done."

Parker dashed of a signature without reading then he gave Des another look and left slightly bent.

Holt waited a beat then held out his hand indicating they should go. "I think somebody seemed a little reluctant."

"Don't offer any opinions, okay?" Des led the way out of the office and down the stairs.

"Just sayin'."

The drive was mostly in silence then at a stoplight Holt broke the ice. "What are your job plans now?"

"Don't have any. Earl's was all I had; everything else dried up."

"Is that all you do-" her look was scalding. "I mean is that your prime occupation or do you have other skills? You know, secretary, teacher . . ." He felt foolish asking but something about the woman made him want to know her better.

"I was a theatre dancer; that was my ambition anyway."

"What happened?"

"What always happens. Show folded and nothing else came along."

Holt pulled to the curb and shut the engine off. Des looked at him defensively.

"I wish you the best, Miss Jones. If you ever-"He hesitated and just showed a tiny smile. "Best of luck."

"Thanks for the ride." Des climbed out and shut the door, watching him drive off slowly at first then accelerating abruptly.

******

Parker stepped off the bus and headed up the street to his basement apartment. The car passed him and he gave it a casual glance. When a moment later it came back the other way he gave it a longer look and saw the driver avert his head and speed up.

"Oh shit no! Not another." He said aloud, breaking into a trot. Inside he locked the door and checked the window then grabbed the card Holt had given him and called. Holt was out so he left a message and then right away called Des.

"Parker? Didn't we just part?"

"Another car, Des."

"Another car what."

"Following me."

"Parker if this is-"

"Jesus, Des! Does everything I do have to be a routine with you? I'm telling you another car followed me home. When I stared at the driver he sped off." I called Holt but he's out."

"You're serious."

"You know what. Des. Screw you." He slammed down the phone and kicked his baseboard so hard he yelped. Of all the stupid things to do and say!

******

Mickey found a bar and parked his car. He needed to think. He'd followed the pair to an apartment after they left the supermarket. Afraid to lose them again, he stayed all night watching then following them again to the cop shop. A while later they came out and the dame left with one of the Detectives while the guy took a bus.

He ordered a drink and worried the coaster as he tried to put things together. Why would they be back at the police station? The only thing they knew anything about was Tabor and he was gone. So why were they there? He downed his drink and waved for another. He had to tell Lester something. He couldn't let him think that he wasn't capable. His aunt would be all over him if he screwed up again.

Lester was at his desk examining his phone when Mickey got back.

"Guess what, boss."

"I don't want to guess, Mickey so if it isn't important forget it."

"They went back to police station."

"Who did?"

"Them! The couple you said to keep an eye on."

Lester shut his phone and tilted back in his chair. "Why?"

"Huh? Well I don't know, I couldn't just walk in and sit down with them."

"So that's it then? They saw the police again?"

"Well... yeah." Mickey felt uncertain suddenly.

"Well it can't be about Tabor any more." Lester opened his phone and held it up for Mickey to see."

"Shit, she found him, eh?"

A sudden silence fell across the room. Lester slapped the phone shut and sat upright.

"Who found him?"

"Uh... uh..." He'd done it. His big mouth had blown it.

"You better tell me what you know you little prick."

Mickey confessed to knowing that Grace had been contracted to find Tabor and admitted that he eavesdropped on Lester's calls . . . sometimes. Lester cracked all his knuckles and bit down so hard his teeth squeaked. His sister was going to get an earful about her brainless nephew.

"If you have anything at all between those stupid ears you'll never even think about Grace Purcell." He picked up the stapler and heard Mickey groan then he dropped it and opened his humidor, taking out a cigar, chomping off the end and lighting it with huge puffs. The smoke hid his face and when it cleared he was glaring at the cigar malevolently.

"Didn't I tell you to forget that source of yours?"

"I been busy, boss. Jeez, everything I do you crawl up my ass about."

Lester calmly stubbed out the cigar and levered his large frame out of the chair. Mickey made small backward steps toward the door.

"I think you better go, Mickey. Have a good night's sleep and start fresh again tomorrow."

Mickey felt wary about Lester's benign temperament and just nodded agreeably as he slipped out the door. Lester returned to his desk, picked up his humidor, placed it on the floor and proceeded to jump on it until there was nothing left but sawdust and tobacco dust.