There's A New McCormick and Hardcastle In Town
by dcat
Notes: You know that theme song from the TV Show Alice? 'There's a new girl in town…' Well that served as my initial stroke of inspiration for this little ditty. I saw an ad for it on ION Television and well, then, one thing led to another and I think I went a little crazy on this, but sometimes you have to get it out of your system. The characters are not mine…well, Hal and Toby sort of are, but there sort of based on two other folks you already know.
OOOOO
Mark McCormick reluctantly entered the big box auto parts store in hopes that he'd be able to just sort of sneak in and out and pick up the case of oil that he needed for the Judge's truck. He hated having to go into the huge store, preferring to usually get any auto supplies he needed from his local body shop, where he could spend a few hours chatting about cars and the good, old days with other gear heads, but the Judge had been on a kick to save money on this good day and the price for the case of oil that the big box had would never be able to be beat at Vic's auto shop.
He slunk in dejectedly and felt the blast of frigid air-conditioned air in the sterile, neon-lighted store. He gave a nearly unnoticeable shake of his head and looked at all products that lined the endless sterile shelves. Auto parts should be at a place where a guy could get grease under his fingernails, where dirt roamed the floor and the smell of gasoline always wafted through the air. Man, he was getting old, he was starting to sound like Hardcase.
This, this place was just Sears for car-guy wannabe's.
He found the aisle with the oil and slid a case off the shelf and was just about to head to the check-out. Good, in quick, out even quicker, he thought. From the other direction, a guy about the same age came walking toward the oil display. "Can't beat this price huh?" the guy said to Mark. The guy looked to be about three decades behind in the clothing department, the only thing he didn't do was have the top button buttoned on his plaid cotton shirt. He almost reminded Mark of a thirty-year-old Milt. Well, McCormick could still be pleasant.
"That's what they say," McCormick replied, even showing a smile, figuring just to make a brief, kind comment and then be on his way. But, Mr. Odd Ball clothing man had odd other ideas and just trotting off was not going to happen. Mark's shoulders slumped when the conversation continued.
The guy actually stuck out his hand to shake and introduced himself. "Toby McDevit," he said. It was one of those firm, overly-aggressive type of shakes.
Did McCormick have a sign around his neck that said I want a new friend? He inadvertently looked downward just to check, nope, no sign. Oh well, so he'd introduce himself to this guy, then be on his way, nothing wrong with being friendly, right? He thrust out his free hand and said, "Mark McCormick, nice to meet you."
"You actually look like you know what you're doing with a case of oil," McDevit continued.
Great, so much for the friendly thing, now he was stuck for sure. Old Toby kept on talking. Mark nodded, "Yeah, I've probably changed more oil than underwear," McCormick joked.
McDevit laughed easily at Mark's joke. "That's very funny. Say, would you mind me asking you a big favor?"
Yeah, actually I would mind, but we've come this far, you might as well keep going. "Shoot," Mark replied.
"This sounds crazy, but would you consider showing me how to do an oil change? I never really learned how to, might be a good skill to have."
"Um, sure I guess," Mark began, part of him wondering what a guy who didn't know how to change oil would be doing in the parts store. "I'm heading back to my house now, if you want you can follow behind and I can take you through it. I got a truck that needs one."
"That'd be great Mark, I really appreciate this," Toby picked up a same case of the oil that McCormick had selected and followed behind him to the checkout counter.
Toby followed Mark out to Gulls Way and right on up the drive. As they both got out of their cars Toby noticing the stateliness of the home said, "Wow, Mark, I gotta ask, what do you do for a living?"
McCormick smiled, "It's not mine Toby, I just live over in the gatehouse there," he pointed out his residence, "me, I'm just the slave labor around here."
Just then the Judge came walking out of the house. "'Bout time you got back McCormick, thought I was going to have to send out the National Guard to find you."
"Judge Hardcastle, I'd like you to meet Toby McDevit, Toby, this is the owner of all this," Mark waved his hand around to indicate the grandeur, "Judge Milton C. Hardcastle," Mark made the quick introductions.
"Toby, how's it going there?" The Judge said politely. "Nice to meet you," he added.
Toby shook the Judge's hand with renewed vigor, "Excuse me, did Mark introduce you as Judge?"
"That's right," Hardcastle replied. "Well, retired now."
"It certainly is an honor to meet you sir," Toby kept shaking his hand, till Milt finally pulled it away.
"Same here," the Judge said again, "and please, just call me Milt, no need for all the formality."
McCormick stood back and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, just call him Milt, otherwise the Judge thing goes right to his head, right Judge?" McCormick couldn't help but toss down a smart remark when the opportunity presented itself.
Hardcastle gave him a 'that's not funny and quit with the wise cracks look.' "So you two know each other from way back or what?"
"Nope, we just met at the auto parts store. Mark was kind enough to offer to show me how to change the oil on his truck," Toby butted in to explain before McCormick could say anything. Mark stood back and grinned. He usually didn't pick up strays.
"That's my truck," Hardcastle pointed out, more to McCormick than to Toby.
Mark cringed and pointed out the Coyote, "Yeah, he's right Toby, that one's mine over there."
"Seriously?" Toby asked.
"Yep and I have the registration to prove it," McCormick gave the Judge a grin. "Listen Tobe," Mark said, shortening his name down to one syllable. "I got some other stuff I have to do around here yet today, so I'm gonna get started okay?"
"Sure Mark, is it all right if I ask questions as you're demonstrating?"
Was this clown for real? "Yeah, absolutely," Mark shook his head and got to work.
OOOOO
The oil change normally wouldn't have taken more than a half hour, but with Toby jawing at Mark in an almost unstoppable monologue, it ended up taking nearly an hour and a half, with the Judge coming back out of the house as Mark was closing the hood to offer them both a cold bottle of beer. Toby of course gladly accepted and stuck around to yammer at them for another hour. He finally headed out around 4:30pm in the afternoon, only after having told Mark that he'd give him a call very soon to get together to do something down the road.
OOOOO
"I think it's great that you got a new friend McCormick," the Judge said, sitting at the kitchen table as Mark dished up their dinner of beef stroganoff onto his plate.
"Judge, you make it sound like I'm Beaver Cleaver for crying out loud. I'm not in 3rd grade all right? It's not the first day of school and I'm all set in the 'best friend' category, in case you forgot. The guy just wanted to see how to do an oil change. I was being nice, that's all."
"He said he'd give you a call," Milt reminded him.
Mark paused for a moment before dishing up his own dinner and sitting down across from the Judge. "Guys say that all the time, it doesn't mean anything."
"That's not true, if I say something like that, I follow through."
Mark paused momentarily before feeling the need to explain, "You're not like a guy Judge, you're, well, you're a Judge."
Milt gave him a scowl, not flattered by McCormick's reasoning, "I don't know, it just seemed like the two of you's had something in common, like the prison thing," Milt continued to talk while he ate.
Mark stopped mid fork and tried to look at the Judge with some seriousness. "Hardcase, do you need to take your reality medication today?" Without waiting for an answer he continued on, "I don't think spending a couple of hours in the county cooker for forgetting to bring along your license with you on your way to pick up ice cream at the Kwiky Mart, qualifies as the same thing I did at San Quentin."
"You're the guy that keeps telling me that prison is prison," the Judge remarked. "I'm just saying, he seems like a nice, normal kind of guy. You should have friends your own age too, you know there's nothing wrong with that."
"Well, when I need you to pick out a playmate for me, I'll let you know. Can we just eat now?"
OOOOO
Two days later Mark was all tucked into his comfortable bed and sleeping soundly when the phone went off in the gatehouse. It took three rings to rouse him and finally on the fifth ring, he located the handset on the table near his bed and picked up the phone.
"'lo?" he grumbled in a sleepy tone.
"Mark, it's Toby," the other voice said.
"Toby? Toby who?" Mark had obviously already forgotten about his new found friend.
"Toby McDevit, from the other day, the oil change, remember?"
"Ah, yeah, um, Toby it's the middle of the night, how about calling me in the morning?" Mark was just about ready to hang up.
"Yeah, Mark wait, I know, I'm really sorry about that, I know it's late, but you're the first person I could think of to call."
Mark slowly rose up from underneath the mound of covers that were on top of him. "What's up Toby?" What'd the guy want now? A bedtime story?
"I found a body Mark," he said.
Mark was in the middle of a yawn, but his eyes suddenly opened and he asked, "What?"
"A body, I think it's a dead body, yeah I know it's a dead body."
"Toby, you need to call the cops, not me," Mark said.
"I know and I will, but I just thought about you and the Judge and the work that you do and I thought maybe I should call you too. Can you just come down here and take a look?" Toby pleaded.
"Toby, really, if it's a dead body, I think the police can handle it, that's what they do for a living, so just hang up and dial 911 okay?" He was about to hang up.
"Wait, Mark, come on, I think you should see this, please?" McDevit was begging.
"This really isn't the sort of thing the Judge and I do Toby, if it's a dead body, you should call the police. They're trained for this sort of thing."
"It's more than just a body Mark," Toby said, "Well, I mean right now it's just the body, but I don't think the cops will get the whole story. That's why you need to come."
This guy was not going to give up. Mark let out a deep breath, "Where are you?"
"I'm out behind the courthouse, can you believe that?"
"No, not really, is this a prank Toby?"
"Mark, no, seriously, just get down here soon, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," McCormick said, hanging up the phone.
OOOOO
McCormick drowsily got dressed and headed for the house. Hardcastle was still up watching the late show when McCormick walked over from the gatehouse. "Hey, good thing you're still up, at least I don't have to wake you," McCormick started, his smart aleck mouth warming up too.
"I thought you went to bed," Hardcastle said looking up at him for a quick moment, then turning his attention back to Joel McCrea.
"You want to take a ride Kemosabe?"
"It's almost 1am McCormick, are you goofy? No I don't want to take a ride."
"Look, here's the deal, the playmate you picked out for me the other day, Toby McDevit, remember him?" McCormick took the few steps down into the den, "he just called me, said he found a dead body, wants us to take a look."
Hardcastle thought he didn't hear McCormick correctly so he completely turned his attention away from the movie and eyed up McCormick. "Are you sleep walking or something?"
"Cute, but no, you know I don't sleep walk."
"Well, what the devil are you babbling about McCormick?"
"The oil change guy, Toby, the one you felt it necessary to tell all about our little sideline of work over a nice, cold bottle of beer, remember him? I guess he thinks that we can solve this crime better than the police. And I figured, at nearly 1am, that I would drag you along, because my life can't really get much worse than it is now."
"Did you tell him to call the cops?" Hardcastle said.
"Of course I did, but this guy doesn't take no for an answer, you do remember the oil change don't you?"
"You know you're not making much sense McCormick."
"At nearly 1am Judge, no one does. Now let's go."
OOOOO
They took the truck so they wouldn't stand out too much and pulled in behind the courthouse. There were two squads with a smattering of officers scattered around the scene.
"Thank God, he listened to me and called the cops," Mark said, slowing down the truck until he spotted Toby standing off to the side taking to another man. "There he is," Mark pulled up the truck into a spot and the two of them got out and began to walk toward McDevit and whoever he was talking with.
"Hi Mark, hey thanks for coming and you brought the Judge too!" Toby said brightly. "That's perfect, you guys can get started right away."
"Yeah, he's like American Express, I don't leave home without him, now what's going on Toby?" McCormick said.
"Let me introduce you guys to a good friend of mine, this is Hal Drinkwater, he's the night watchman here at the courthouse, he actually found the body, Hal this is Mark McCormick and Judge Milton Hardcastle." Hal Drinkwater looked to be about 5'8" tall and he probably weighed a tightly compact 190lbs. He wore his night watchman hat tilted off the side of his head, giving him a little bit of an attitude. McCormick noticed it right away. And he was just about the same age as Milt. Handshakes went all around.
"Toby, what exactly do you do for a living?" Mark finally thought to ask.
"Me? I thought I told you Mark, I'm an attorney," Toby said.
McCormick couldn't quite contain a chuckle as the Judge poked him in the side. "What exactly do you need us for Toby?" Hardcastle asked. "Looks like you got the cops here, and it's all under control right?"
"Great question Judge," Toby said, but neglecting to offer any more information.
"They want to know why Toby, come on, start using your brain a little," Hal glanced over to Milt and remarked, "Geez, these youngsters get a couple of college degrees under their belts, but yet they still can't manage to answer a simple question. The cops are thinking this is a suicide, but me and the youngster here know it's a murder."
"Did you tell that to the cops?" McCormick asked.
"Of course we did, but aside from us just thinking it, we don't have much proof. The barrister here thinks you two can help, he said you're some sort of crime busters?" Hal said. Drinkwater turned toward Toby and said, "I thought you said these guys were the best?"
Hardcastle and McCormick took a moment to look at each other and wonder if they were stuck in some sort of weird dream.
"Look Toby, why don't you start at the beginning and tell us what you know?" Milt suggested.
"The woman that's dead, her name is Sheila Montenegro. She is one of the receptionist's up on the 3rd floor."
"That's Sheila Montenegro?" The Judge interrupted, pausing to look back at the body under the sheet. "I haven't seen her in a few years."
"You know her?" Mark asked him.
"Yeah, she's been working down here since before I became a Judge. She must be in her 60's by now too?"
"She was in her 60's Judge, 66 to be exact," Drinkwater said.
"So why would a 66 year old receptionist kill herself?" Mark posed.
"She wouldn't, that's just it!" Toby said. "Now you're starting to get it."
"Toby, it's just a question, and that's what the cops will do, they'll ask some questions, and find out if it's indeed suicide or murder, heck, at 66 maybe she just keeled over," Mark said.
"She didn't just keel over McCormick, this isn't one of those stupid videos you watch," Milt turned to McDevit, "Toby, why do you think it's murder?" Milt asked. Toby looked over to Hal who shrugged his shoulders. Both of them were unsure of what to say. "Listen, you called us remember? Either tell us what you know, or we're going back home to bed," Milt added.
"He's a tax attorney Milt, not a criminal attorney," Drinkwater said. "This is a little out of his territory."
"Yeah, but if you know something Toby, you need to tell the cops," Mark said.
"I told them everything I know," Toby said.
"They don't believe him, just like they don't believe me, I'm just the night security guy."
"Alright, I'm curious, lets all go grab a cup of coffee and hear your story," Milt said.
Mark shifted his weight to his other leg and let his eyes roll. Toby clapped his hands together and took off for his car, with Hal in pursuit. Milt and Mark scanned around the area and finally Mark said, "You are not believing any of this are you? These two are a joke."
"You know people probably say that about us too, when we stick our noses into things," Hardcastle said, as he walked over to the pickup.
Now it was Mark's turn to scowl, he didn't like it when he said something brash without thinking first. Hardcastle was right, was there much difference between a judge and an ex-con thinking they could solve a crime compared to a night watchman and a tax attorney?
OOOOO
"The cops said it looked like an OD Milt," Toby began.
"An OD? Isn't Sheila a grandmother?" Hardcastle said.
"Yeah, four times over, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John," Hal interjected. "That's the first flag for me and Punky Barrister here."
McCormick leaned back in the booth and shook his head, Punky Barrister? This was a nightmare. "Look even grannies can get hooked on something and take more than the prescribed amount, the cops must have reason to suspect she OD'd."
"The only reason they do is because of J. Thomas Howe," Toby blurted out.
Hardcastle whistled his amazement while McCormick sat up a little straighter and said, "Who's J. Thomas Howe?"
"I tell ya and I tell ya, read the whole newspaper not just the comics and the sports," Hardcastle said to him.
"Just tell me who this Howe guy is?" McCormick said.
"J. Thomas Howe is the wealthiest man in Los Angeles.," Hal Drinkwater started. "He built an empire of auto parts stores."
Suddenly bells were going off in Mark's head. "So you weren't there to learn how to do an oil change?"
"Well, yes and no Mark, I really have never done one before, but I was there trying to get some dirt on Howe and I really had no idea about you or the Judge till you both told me about your career later that afternoon."
"And you just thought he'd show up in that particular one of his bazillion stores?" Mark asked.
"He was there that day, I wouldn't have just randomly gone in there. Give me some credit," Toby explained. Mark, surprised by the brief flash of intelligence, was taken aback and he gave Toby a sincere half smile.
"Let's get back to the facts. How does Howe tie into Sheila Montenegro?" Hardcastle got back on track.
"They were having an affair," Hal said.
"WHAT?" Mark couldn't believe his ears. "The richest man in LA, king of the auto part empire, is having an affair with a receptionist who exists from week to week on a state wage? Come on."
"It's true Mark, Hal has pictures."
"I don't even want to know how you have pictures Hal," Mark shook his head, that was becoming habitual on this long evening.
"I got a brother-in-law who's a wannabe private eye, he did me a favor and took some glossy's. Those two have been in and out of the courthouse back door for the last 8 months," Hal said in a more than suggestive mode.
"Isn't Sheila married?" the Judge asked. "I think I know her husband, his name is Oscar right?"
"Yep and Howe is married too, that's why it's an affair," Toby said.
"Okay, so Howe and Sheila are having an affair, how does that get to be murder?"
"Oscar and Darlene found out about it," Drinkwater said.
"How do you know that?" Mark questioned.
"Because they told me," Hal said. "They know I see just about everything around here, so they asked me and I couldn't very well lie to them."
"Of course not," Mark mimicked him, which earned him another look from the Judge.
"Okay, so you two think that Oscar and Darlene killed Sheila?" Milt asked.
"That's exactly what we're thinking," Toby said.
"Well why wouldn't they kill J. Thomas too?" Mark wanted to know.
The three faces stared at him till he figured it out for himself. He finally nodded, "'Cause J. Thomas has all the money and his name is on the all the stores."
"It takes him a little longer than most," Milt tried to explain Mark's position.
"How do we prove this Judge?" Toby asked.
Milt gave him a smile, "We need something more concrete than just you two thinking they did it. You got anything else?"
"Not the drugs if that's what you're thinking, but I do have a receipt that fell out of Oscar's coat two days ago. It's for a prescription for Sheila, something called Docyentine," Hal explained.
"Maybe it's something legit," Mark started. "That's not much to go on."
"Except that I had a conversation with her yesterday and she told me proudly she never has taken anything stronger than an aspirin. And I checked out Docyentine, if you take too much of it, it slows your heart down and kills you," Toby said.
"I thought you were a tax attorney?" Mark said.
"I am, but I started pharmacy school and switched three years in, I still have all the books at my apartment," Toby explained.
"Okay, okay, so we need to convince the coroner to check her system and if there's too much of this Docyentine in there, then we have something to work with, and we can turn it over to the cops," the Judge said. Toby and Hal wore ear to ear grins. McCormick wasn't convinced by a long shot.
"That won't prove anything Judge, if the prescription is in her name, then how can we pin this on Oscar and Sheila?" Mark asked.
"Let's cross that bridge when we get there, right now, let's go see Frank and convince him to run this test on her. We'll talk to you two later," Milt nodded his goodbye to Toby and Hal and McCormick followed slowly on the Judge's heels.
OOOOO
"I am not buying that two 60+ years' olds are out killing a 66 year old grandmother of four," Mark said, starting up the truck and pulling away.
"Why? Old people can't commit murder too?" Hardcastle said.
McCormick was back to shaking his head, "It just doesn't seem right, there's got to be more to this an affair."
"Money does strange things to people kiddo."
"I just think we ought to slow down Judge. I mean, what do we even know about Toby and Hal?"
"Toby's a tax attorney and Hal's a night watchman, what else you wanna know?"
"And they just joined the ranks of Crime Busters Incorporated?" Mark cracked. "I didn't know it was open membership season right now. Do we need to re-certify our association fee?"
"You know you get worked up over the dumbest stuff McCormick, why don't you just relax while you drive. We'll go see Frank, he'll order the partial autopsy, and we'll go from there. You'll be back to your pillow and blanket in about an hour, is that okay?" The Judge said.
"This is not about me getting sleep Judge. I can't believe you don't see how weird this all looks," he leaned over toward the Judge, "they're like a couple of caricatures of us, in case you haven't noticed."
"Who?" Milt asked.
"Toby and Hal. Come on, you gotta see it?" Mark paused and then wondered, "Don't you?"
Hardcastle shook his head no. "The only thing I see is that something stinks at Howe's Auto Parts Stores.
OOOOO
They had barely gotten back to Gulls Way and Mark had trudged over to the gatehouse, crawled back into bed, and began to sleep when someone was knocking on his door.
"Go away," he shouted from the top of the loft.
"We're coming in McCormick, so put a shirt on and get down here," Hardcastle shouted back. Mark could hear the door opening. He groaned.
"McCormick, get down here, you wanted a motive, well we've got one for ya," Hardcastle said.
Mark angrily tossed off the blanket and reached for a t-shirt and put it on inside out as he clomped down the stairs to see Hal, Toby and Milt waiting impatiently for him in the living area.
"And this couldn't wait another six hours?" Mark said. "What's gonna happen? Is Sheila going to die again?"
"He's pretty quick with the one-liners Milt," Hal noticed. "I wish Toby had a little bit of that smart mouth in him. It'd sure make nights like this go a little faster."
McCormick perked up from the compliment.
"Maybe Mark could show me how he does that, sort of like the oil change, whatta ya say Mark?" Toby asked.
"I think it's something you're born with Tobe, but keep working at it, maybe you'll get it," McCormick replied. "So what's the motive?" He plopped down on the sofa and rubbed his tired eyes.
"Toby's a tax attorney!" The Judge said.
McCormick stopped mid-rub, "So, we knew that," and he rolled his hand to ask, what else?"
"Sheila had me dig into Howe's tax records about a month ago and I gave her what I found. This was before Hal here told me that Sheila and Howe were having an affair," Toby said.
"Tell him what you found out Toby," Milt prodded.
"J. Thomas Howe hasn't paid the least lick of tax in the last six years," Toby boasted. "I would have gone back farther, but Sheila told me that was enough to start with."
"You sat on it for a month?" Mark asked.
"I thought I was doing her a favor," Toby explained.
"Are the pieces coming together for you now McCormick?" Milt asked.
"Yeah, slowly. Old J. Tommy-boy is raking in the cash and his 66-year-old grandma honey on the side finds out and she blackmails him? But that would mean J. Thomas killed her, not Darlene and Oscar," Mark scratched his head.
"There's more Mark," Toby said.
"See J. Thomas is from the old country, he knows about as much about taxes as you do," Hal said, looking right at McCormick. Mark felt the sting from cheap shot and it showed on his face. "On the other hand, Darlene is a descendent of the Hunter family fortune and she holds a doctorate in Finance from Yale, she's the one behind the fortune. J. Thomas is just the face on the TV ads."
Mark stood up and began to pace. "This is all way too neat. So then what, Darlene finds out about the affair and that Sheila knows about the taxes and then what? She goes out and convinces Oscar to off Grandma Sheila? And what about J. Thomas?"
"J. Thomas is just a figure-head McCormick, when are you going to get that through your head. Forget about him. We want Darlene and Oscar," Milt said.
"And I just got the final proof about an hour ago," Hal stepped forward. "My brother-in-law CC came through again. Darlene and Oscar are having their own affair, take a look gentlemen." He tossed a batch of pictures on the nearby table.
"This is great Hal, your brother-in-law is a helluva photographer," the Judge said with a grin, looking from photo to photo.
Mark was also looking through the photos, "This does just about prove it, we need to call Frank."
Just then the door to the gatehouse got busted open by the sound of a shotgun. In walked Oscar Montenegro holding the gun on them, with Darlene Howe following behind with a handgun of her own.
From the top of the loft, old J. Thomas Howe, crawled in through the window. He also carried a shotgun.
"What was that you said about old folks not being capable of murder?" Hardcastle whispered to McCormick.
"Hey, blame it on a lack of sleep okay, Kemosabe, now what?" Mark said.
"All of you shut up and sit down over on the couch," Oscar pointed the gun at them. "Darlene, pick up the photos."
Hal, Toby, Mark and Milt made their way to the sofa and sat down as instructed.
"You want to tell us what this is all about their pard?" Milt said to Oscar.
"Just from listening in the last few minutes, I'd say you already know what this is about, all except that J. Thomas is in with us. He knows where the money ticket is," Oscar said. "He does what we tell him to do."
"After all these years Oscar? You killed your own wife?" Milt asked.
"She was dying anyway Milt, she had cancer, the doctor told me last week, I just didn't have the heart to tell her. At least this way, I'll be happy and the kids and grandkids will have an inheritance," Oscar coldly explained.
From the other side of the couch, Hal went for the gun he kept under his shirt in the waistband of his pants. Oscar fired right at him and hit him in the shoulder. Toby immediately went to help Hal.
Milt pulled out his gun and winged J. Thomas at the top of the loft, sending him sprawling over the railing to the floor below, while Darlene and Oscar ran out of the house, hopped in their car and started to take off. Hardcastle grabbed Howe's rifle and handed it to Toby and told him to call 911 and two ambulances and then he grabbed McCormick and they ran out after Darlene and Oscar.
The Coyote car chase was one, zipping down the interior road, then out onto the PCH, weaving in and out of the early morning traffic, until Hardcastle turned to McCormick and told him to 'quit playing around with them and catch 'em.' Mark turned on the after burners and skidded around a curve, cut in front of Darlene who was driving and brought the chase to a happy ending.
"Get out of there, both of you and drop the gun," Milt shouted from the edge of the Coyote seat. McCormick ran over and took the gun and pulled them both out of the car they were in.
OOOOO
McCormick slept for the rest of the day. It was just about supper time when he found his robe, threw it around his body and hoofed over to the house.
"You sleep way too much kiddo," Milt said, sitting down to his dinner. "There's probably enough casserole left over for ya if you're interested."
"Nah, I'm not hungry. Any news?"
"Oh, Hal's gonna be fine, the bullet didn't hit any bone," Milt explained.
Mark sucked in a deep breath, "I was hoping that was all a bad nightmare."
"Nope, not this time. J. Thomas broke his back in the fall. He's looking at being in the prison infirmary for the rest of his life. And Oscar and his kids can kiss their inheritance goodbye, while Darlene gets the best attorney money can buy and who knows, she might be out looking for more adventure before she turns 70," Milt said.
"How do you do this?" Mark asked him.
"Do what?"
"Keep this even keel of yours, when all the chaos is going on around you?"
Hardcastle shrugged, "Why get worked up over it, good guys always win right?"
"Barely," McCormick paused, "you know you or I could have gotten shot just as easily as Hal."
"Hal just needs to time it a little better before he pulls out his piece," Hardcastle said. "I'll teach him."
"No," Mark began to violently shake his head, "We are not going to team up with those two again, don't even think about Judge."
"Hey, I'll admit they got nothing on Hardcastle and McCormick, but think about it," he paused, "Drinkwater and McDevit, it's got a ring to it."