A/N – I would like to thank everyone who reviewed this fic

A/N – I would like to thank everyone who reviewed this fic. I appreciate it. A lot!

Warnings – I suppose language would be one. I don't want to make this 'M' for it though. Ah…drinking…smoking….violence….yeah….all of that.

The Logistics of Crime

Part 2

"Oh shit…." Mort muttered. This was how it started last time and let's faces it; last time wasn't exactly a walk in the park. Unfortunately, Mort never could NOT answer the door when someone obviously needed to talk to him. He just hoped it wasn't an unnaturally mad parent coming to talk to him about some stupid shit their kid had done on his property. For some reason, Mort hated that more than being accused of plagiarizing.

Mort opened the door the two inches the chain allowed; "Hello," he greeted carefully. He blocked the right side of his body so that he could inch his hand into the drawer of the desk by the doorway.

"Yes, yes you can, you see – I'm buying some property and I don't trust realtors. So, since I saw your car, I figured I'd ask you what you thought of the neighborhood," the man said.

Mort's mouth dropped open and he blink in such a way that he was sure the other man knew exactly what he was thinking; "You're kidding, right?"

"No," the man replied.

"Okay…er – the neighbors are only dicks to people who they think are crazy and have killed people, not to mention, said people must be buried someplace on the property and are only waiting for said murderer to sell the property so it can be search, even if it could be done legally," Mort replied.

"So…they're friendly then?" the man asked.

"To strangers," Mort replied.

"Ah," the man shook his head.

"Was there anything else? Because if not I gotta go and work and..."

"What do you do?" the man asked.

"I…write…" Mort licked his lips in a nervous way.

"Do you happen to know a man by the name of Ted Milner?" the man asked.

"Unfortunately," Mort sighed.

"Do you know where he lives?"

"What is this? The Spanish Inquisition? I don't know where that bastard lives because he's my X-WIFE'S boyfriend, savvy?" Mort replied angrily.

"Hold on there, Pard'ner, no need to get pissed,"

"Considering that I don't know you, and you're getting kinda personal…what did you expect?"

"Not this,"

"Okay, get off my porch," Mort replied and shut the door in the man's face.

Mort leaned on the heavy oak door for a few moments till he heard footsteps, he turned to a window that looked out over the doorway. The man didn't look happy, he would have passed for Johnny Cash if he had a guitar with him. Dressed in black with his hair in a pony tail and a fedora hat to go with shades and a bloody nice sports car wasn't the sort of man Mort figured would go for a cabin in the middle of nowhere, with only a hick town the closest thing to entertainment these days.

Mort watched as the mystery man slowly back down the drive way, almost running over his mail box, but correcting his line of site to miss it by two inches. Mort shook his head. Why would anyone be interested in Ted Milner? If the man had any brains, he would have realized that Ted and Amy had gone on vacation to Tucson or something like that.

"Why would anyone want to go to Tucson anyway?" Mort asked himself as he made his way back up the stairs to his computer. With all the idea's running around in his head, Mort wasn't surprised to have included a mystery man into his manuscript. Of course, he knew he would curse himself for doing it, since he wasn't sure what the new character's roll was for.

--

"What the hell do you mean by you don't know WHERE THE FUCK HE WENT?!" Sands yelled at the Agent who was safely a thousand miles away from him with the use of a wonderful gadget called a telephone. The other agent really was very lucky. He only had to listen to Sands curse at him; he didn't have to deal with a gun in his face.

Which to Sands was an injustice in and of itself.

"I'm telling you," the agent started again, "That we don't know where Milner is,"

"You are totally screwing the pooch, ain't ya?" Sands asked.

"No, we have records of he and…an…Amy Rainy getting married…but…"

"Wait…Rainy? Married? Maybe that's why," Sands said.

"What are you talking about?" the agent asked.

"Stop being so fucking stupid! If they got married than maybe they had someone pay for their fucking honeymoon!" Sands replied with an elaborate eye roll.

"Oh,"

"Look on cruise ship dockets and…other vacation…things…I don't have time for this shit," Sands muttered as he hung up on the agent on the other end. Sometimes he wished he had became a concert pianist like his mother wanted him to be.

"Why the hell wasn't I stationed in Alaska?" he had to ask himself as he drove to New London.

--

Mort swore to himself that he wouldn't go through the boxes. However, the ten or so boxes that crowded the space underneath his stair case were just getting to him. Sure, he wasn't the best clean-up person in the world, in fact, he had been the cleanest of all his buddies in college, however, he had to admit that when one had their one place and when they didn't have anyone coming for a visit…well…thing tended to get away from them.

It was the same in this case, and so after he cleared up the dishes from the last three days and had the dish washer going. He picked a box at random to go through. Much to his delight, it was full of books. Mort loved books, if there was one thing he would have hate to let Amy and Ted have, it was HIS books.

Some of these books were bloody old too. He was sure that some would come out to a lot of money if he ever decided to sell them. Which of course he wouldn't unless he was in a bind, but, they looked nice on his shelves. Some the books were even first volumes, though he had some later one, but, the point of the book was the story, not the leather binding or the fact that the author had dedicated it to their loved ones in their own hand-writing.

Mort loved all of these books for one reason only…the story.

Which brought him full force to his newest book; it had taken on a life of its own with the mystery man just enlivening the plot that much more. He had a slight idea about the character but not much, considering that he was going off his own mystery man. Why would he want Ted Milner anyway? Mort asked himself, it seemed rather stupid, if his opinion had been asked.

--

Meanwhile, miles away from the cold of Main, Ted and Amy Milner sat on their beach chairs enjoying the Caribbean ocean tickling their feet. It had been Amy's idea to go to the Caribbean islands for their Honeymoon. Ted's parents had paid for the week long trip, saying that it would be good for both of them to get away. Considering everything that had gone wrong with that "Crazy writer!". Ted's Mother, Victoria had mentioned how they were both lucky the man hadn't tried to kill them.

Amy had to admit, that when Mort had just keeled over once the conversation got violent…well…that part had also faulted Ted who punched Mort, hard. Amy doubted Mort remembered that though, if he had, she was sure he would have ranted to her about it.

Amy sighed as she stretched out.

"Are you all right, dear?" Ted asked.

"Perfect," Amy smiled. Ted was going to say something else, but a tap on his shoulder by a waiter brought his attention else where. The waiter told him he had an important phone call.

Amy rolled her eyes; she knew the Ted's job was important. He couldn't tell her what it was, but nonetheless. She didn't appreciate their honeymoon being interrupted for anything stupid that had to do with computers and programs…among other things.

Amy returned to the book she had brought along for just a time as this. There was no telling how long Ted had to stay on the phone. However, she couldn't help but watch him. He was buff, he was a wonder in the bedroom…but sometimes he got a bit too…what was the word she was looking for? Mort always had a word at the ready….

Protective?

Yes, kind of. She had to admit.

Angry?

Sometimes.

Upset…that actually described him right now. Something that someone was telling him wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear. Amy couldn't hear what he was saying but she was sure that whoever was on the other end of the phone was getting the reamed.

A few minutes later, with drinks in hand, Ted made his way back over to the beach chairs.

"Sorry about that, sweetheart," he said.

"Don't worry about it," Amy replied with a smile.

--

A/N – I hate this chapter! I hate it! I am trying to set up and setting up chapters when I have no clue what is going to happen just pisses me off!

Oh! I know that I got the places where Ted and Amy went mixed up. But, it's supposed to be that way!