Chapter Thirteen

Jim was coming back towards the main building after leaving the cart with Frank Cannon when he saw Coley storming outside and heading for the employees' wing. Interested and concerned, Jim changed direction and started to follow him.

"Rodman, what's going on?" he greeted.

Coley barely glanced at him. "Mrs. Featherstone saw Bowen out here earlier," he said. "And Snakes."

Jim frowned deeply. "I've been trying to clear Lucius," he said. "Is she sure it was him and Snakes?"

"Yeah. Not together or anything like that, but it sounded like Snakes from what she said. And if it was, chances are what he told us was an outright lie." Not finding any clues, Coley turned away in annoyance. "I'm going to have a look at the security camera tapes and see if he's on any of them."

"That could take a long time," Jim noted. "I should go back to where we saw him and look for him before he has the chance to get any farther away."

"He's probably already halfway to Canada by now," Coley grunted. "If he has any sense."

"Which he doesn't seem to have much of." Jim turned to go.

"His deal was with Posey and Pinto," Coley remarked. "If he's coming after us now, he has to be mixed up with the spies and they're paying him to do it." He headed for the side door, which opened only for the employees, and slid the required cardkey down the slot.

"That's what it sounds like," Jim agreed. "If Arte wakes up before I get back, tell him where I went."

"He might try to get up and go after you," Coley pointed out.

"That's possible," Jim agreed. "And if he's feeling alright, that's fine. If he's not . . ." He hesitated. "You'll just have to keep him here."

"And how would I do that?" Coley shot back.

"You'll think of something," Jim grunted as he walked off.

Muttering to himself, Coley hauled the door open and went back inside the building.

Jim had just given him a very tall order. He hoped it was not going to be necessary to enforce it.

xxxx

Lucius was feeling stunned, awed, and quite at home in the gang's house. It was all as he had envisioned from the papers and stories he had grown up with.

Sergei was always walking around eating something. Cyril was in constant delight of fire. Gallito loved his spiders and talked to them. Brutus was the strong and determined spokesman.

And Lucrece and Pinto . . . well, they were clearly the crafty criminals they had always been purported to be. But they were also clearly in love and very intrigued by Lucius.

He lost track of how long they talked. He told them how much they had been praised up in his family through the years and how he had longed to meet them. They related the tale of how they came to be in this time period and inquired after Lucius's profession. There were definite looks of shock when he admitted that he was currently an U.N.C.L.E. agent and fighting against crime instead of for it.

"Our whole line grew up with their paws in crooked pies," Pinto remarked. "And you're saying you've broke that?"

Lucius smirked. "I was as surprised as you. I used to be a hired gun. But I ended up knowing too much about my boss and U.N.C.L.E. recruited me to come work for them instead. They wanted the information I had. And I was in danger of getting a contract put out on me, so joining U.N.C.L.E. seemed the smartest thing to do."

Lucrece nodded. "That makes sense," she admitted. "But I hope this allegiance to an organization seeking law enforcement won't create an uncomfortable rift between us."

"I don't think such a situation would ever come up, but if it did, I wouldn't take any job that would compromise either of you," Lucius insisted. "I couldn't do that."

"I believe you," Pinto drawled.

"I was given a name similar to yours by my parents," Lucius said to Lucrece, "and I took the name Pinto as an alias to work under when I couldn't afford to let my real name get out." He looked to Pinto. "I've carried your memory with me all of my life. I never imagined I would actually meet either of you. It's . . . this whole experience is like something out of a fantasy book."

"But we're very much real," said Lucrece. "And this situation feels quite strange to us as well."

"Not in a bad way, though," Pinto mused. "At least not for me. I'm right tickled to meet our present-day flesh and blood. I wondered if someone like you existed."

"I hope I won't be a disappointment," Lucius declared.

"I hope not, either," Lucrece replied, "but you seem to have grown up well so far. Tell us more about yourself."

Lucius happily started to comply.

xxxx

Florence smirked to herself. Her plan was going just as she had believed it would. The assassin Blackburn hoped to kill had come. He was still with Lucrece and Pinto right now, inside their house.

She would see that the hitman was taken alive, just as her superiors wanted. But he would be conveniently killed as soon as she got the word to Blackburn about his capture.

Of course, she would have to wait for him to leave the home of his ancestors first. She did not want to become entangled in another battle with them.

But she did not mind waiting. Patience was one of her strong suits, especially when she was so close to arriving at her goals.

She had waited while her sister enacted her own, childish plots to gain wealth. It had been annoying, but she had known it would nevertheless be worth it. And she had been right—her patience had eventually resulted in Vivalene's defeat. Then Florence had been free to take over where Vivalene had left off.

She had already been dethroned herself, thanks to Perry Mason and his crew, but she would soon remedy that situation. Eventually she would once again have all the power she wanted.

And maybe this time around, she wouldn't have to resort to using a box filled with black magic to do it.

xxxx

Jane was coming out of Lafe's room when Coley went back inside. Seeing him, she padded over with a happy meow.

Coley bent down to pat her. "Hey, Jane," he greeted. "Lafe and Gordon doing okay?"

Jane purred, leaning into his hand. She had been going back and forth between the rooms, checking on both men. Now, seeming to feel that all was well, she wanted to go with Coley for a while.

He straightened, convinced that everything was alright. As he headed up the hall and towards the security room, Jane bounced alongside. When he opened the door to the room he wanted, Jane scampered in ahead of him and jumped into his chair and then onto the smooth top of the console, avoiding all the controls.

The security guard present, who was getting his lunch from across the room, looked over with a start. "Hey!" he exclaimed, looking at Jane. "What are you doing?"

Jane responded by flopping onto her side and stretching out on top of the console, one paw far out in front of her.

The guard shook his head. "I don't get how you always manage to miss the controls when you're jumping up there."

Jane half-closed her eyes, pleased.

"Go ahead and eat your lunch somewhere else, Rawlins," Coley grunted. "I need to check some things on the tapes from earlier today."

Rawlins blinked in surprise. "Of course, Sir," he nodded. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Nah, I think I've got it," Coley said. "Unless you can tell me if you remember seeing that Bowen guy hanging around. Or somebody with a long, ugly scar on the left side of his face."

Rawlins started to shake his head but then paused. "Maybe I do remember seeing them," he said. "Both of them. But nothing much could have happened with them or I'm sure I'd remember better."

Coley sat down at the console and began manipulating dials and pressing buttons. "I'll have a look and see for myself," he said. "Do you remember how far back this was?"

Rawlins stared into the distance as he considered the question. "In the morning, probably."

"After breakfast?"

"It could have been," Rawlins agreed. "It probably was."

Coley nodded. "Okay. Thanks."

Rawlins headed out and Coley started his search, idly petting Jane as he rewound the tape of the camera in the area he wanted. Jane purred, continuing to lie on her side and soak up the attention.

"There's Tolliver," Coley noted presently. He sent the tape back just a little more, to where Lucius wandered into view, and then set it to play normally.

Lucius was indeed roaming the area, seeming to be searching for something—or someone—in particular. And almost as soon as he left the camera zone, Snakes eased open the door and slipped outside. As Mrs. Featherstone had described, he looked very nervous. He skittered around the side of the building, in the opposite direction from Lucius.

Coley frowned. "How did he get that door open?" he wondered. "He doesn't have a cardkey."

Or at least, Snakes wasn't supposed to have a cardkey. Had he procured one somehow? Or had the door already been unlocked, left that way by either an employee or by someone else who had gotten a cardkey?

Jane looked over, peering at the screen from a sideways perspective. Then, losing interest, she laid back on the warm machine, her fluffy tail lightly thumping behind her.

"If West finds Tolliver, he'd better drag him back here," Coley declared. "I've got some questions for that rat."

"Coley?"

Coley glanced up at Ray's voice. Ray was wandering into the room, looking both confused and surprised. Jane meowed a greeting. Ray stroked her head as he went over.

"Well, you're certainly making yourself comfortable," he commented.

Jane merowed.

"She gets up there a lot," Coley remarked. "Usually if I'm here, but not always. She knows she can get attention from pretty much any of the security team."

Ray chuckled. "And she probably likes how warm it is up there."

"That too." Coley glanced back at the screen. "Mrs. Featherstone said she saw Bowen and Tolliver hanging around the employees' wing after breakfast," he reported. "I was just looking into it. They were both there, and Tolliver especially looks like he was up to no good."

"Oh no," Ray groaned. "And who knows where he is now!"

"West went after him," Coley said. "Maybe he'll find him, maybe he won't."

"I wish he would. And I wish something would start to make sense around here!" Ray leaned on the edge of the console in exasperation.

"You and me both," Coley grunted.

He cursed in his mind as he remembered he hadn't yet called Ray's parents, as he had intended to do. So much had suddenly exploded forth today that he had barely had a chance to think about it, let alone to do it.

If Ray remembered, he didn't ask. And Coley determined that he would find a point to do so before that happened.

"Oh," Ray said suddenly, "the district attorney called about Lafe."

"Didn't that police lieutenant tell him what Lafe told me?" Coley frowned. "About the girl being named Carol something?"

"Yes, but he was still hoping Lafe might remember something else later on," Ray said. "He wondered if he or Mr. Sampson could come talk to Lafe later."

Coley shrugged. "I guess that'd be up to Lafe. He's supposed to be resting right now."

Ray nodded. "He is; he's asleep. I checked on him on my way down here."

"What about Gordon?"

"He finally fell asleep too." Ray straightened, his eyes darkening. "It's outrageous that this happened right here. I feel responsible, like I should have seen it coming and been able to stop it."

"You couldn't have seen it coming," Coley retorted. "And I suppose you could say that Gordon should have thought something might happen, if anyone figured out that he and West weren't just being friendly talking to all those people. Gordon's a trained secret agent. You're not."

"That's true," Ray conceded. "But I feel terrible about it anyway."

Coley nodded. "Yeah. I do too. And if I find out somebody on the security team is mixed up in it . . ." He trailed off, his eyes narrowing.

Ray laid a hand on his shoulder. "You couldn't have known about that."

"I should, though." Coley leaned back. "I knew that my old gang member Frank was trouble from the start. But it's worse with these guards. I've taught them, trained them. . . . And I still couldn't figure out which one was the bad apple in the past. I was hoping I was better at picking them by now."

"Maybe you are," Ray said. "But even if there's another snake in the grass, they're so clever and crafty that it makes sense you wouldn't realize it."

"When people are getting hurt, it's not a tolerable mistake," Coley growled. "And somehow, Tolliver got a cardkey to the employees' wing. Either that or somebody else unlocked the door before he slithered out."

Ray stiffened. "If he got a cardkey, maybe he still has it and we can trace down which one is missing," he suggested.

Coley nodded. "And I'll rewind the tape some more and see if there's any shot of anyone else at that door. But we should have a camera inside the door and not just outside," he proclaimed.

"You're right." Ray studied the various monitors. "Go ahead and order one." Before Coley could reply, Ray leaned forward, staring at one of the screens. "What the . . ."

Coley followed his gaze. "What is it?"

"That's Frank Cannon!" Ray exclaimed, pointing at the scene in question. "And it looks like he's talking to a woman with a scarf!"

xxxx

Jim had to trek to the train yard in his search for Snakes. He had tracked him by speaking to various passersby, several of whom remembered seeing him fleeing in this direction. Now, as Jim wandered the train yard, he searched for any sign of the wayward character.

It was somewhat of a surprise, really, that trains were still in existence and being used. With all the modern technology, he had thought they might be as obsolete as the telegraph.

Trains had updated greatly from what Jim was familiar with. And it seemed that passenger trains, although still around, were not as popular as other means of transportation. The majority of the trains Jim was looking at now were cargo trains. And most of them looked as though they had seen better days. Some of them even had graffiti across most of their boxcars.

It was when he saw a bluish-purple sleeve vanishing into an old caboose that he sprang into action. Picking up speed, he dashed to the caboose just as it was starting to roll along the tracks and leaped aboard. As he rushed inside, he reached and caught hold of the arm.

In the next moment he heard a familiar yelp and the click of a gun being drawn.

"Don't try it, Snakes," he said darkly, drawing his own gun and sticking it in the outlaw's back.

Snakes went stiff. "I told you everything I knew," he argued. "What are you coming after me again for? You wanted me to get out as much as I wanted to go."

"That was before we found out that you were at the Oak Bridge Golf Club this morning," Jim said.

"I was where?!" Snakes was still clutching his gun. "What would I be doing there?"

"That's what you're going to tell us." Jim started to pull Snakes back towards the exit. Forced to go with him, Snakes stumbled and then tried to get his footing.

"You don't have any proof I was there," Snakes declared.

"How do you know?" Jim returned. "Can you prove you weren't there?" He glowered. "There's witnesses who say you were."

"Who?" Snakes challenged.

"I'm not going to say," Jim returned. "Just in case you get any ideas about going after them."

Snakes' shoulders slumped. "I was there," he admitted in resignation.

"Why didn't you say that before?" Jim demanded, pressing the gun harder.

"I didn't want to go into that!" Snakes exclaimed. "But not for the reason you're probably thinking."

"What am I thinking?" Jim's voice was low and dangerous.

"That I went there to cause trouble or spy on you or something," Snakes returned. "I didn't!"

Jim paused in front of the exit, letting Snakes see as the caboose was picking up speed. "Then why?"

Snakes stared as the tracks started to fly past. "Because . . ." He clutched at his own gun, even though he could not use it at the moment. "Because I was following that other Pinto guy!"

Jim rocked back. That was an answer he had not expected. "Lucius Bowen?"

"He just told me his name was Pinto, and boy, was he mad that I . . . well, you know, tried to shorten the lives of Posey and her Pinto." Snakes tried to get his gun pointed at Jim, but Jim refused to be distracted. His own weapon coldly clicked.

"So when you saw him driving past, you couldn't resist following him," Jim noted.

"That's right," Snakes nodded. "I tracked him to the golf club."

"And when you were seen by the employees' wing, you were still following him."

"The what?" Snakes shrugged helplessly. "I don't know where I was at the club, but sure, I was always following him."

"And he didn't notice or catch you?" Jim studied Snakes with a frown. "Maybe you don't know this, but this second Pinto is a trained assassin. He wouldn't overlook the fact of someone being after him. He would have noticed or heard you."

"He noticed me!" Snakes snapped at last. "He wanted to know what I was up to and threatened me if I tried to go after Posey and her Pinto again."

"You didn't mention any of this when you claimed you were telling us everything," Jim said, his eyes still narrowed.

"Everything about that conversation with the Stone people," Snakes retorted. "This didn't have anything to do with that!" He tried to pull away in spite of the gun. "Come on, West, you're not going to throw me off the train."

"But you might throw me off," Jim returned. He changed directions, shoving Snakes hard against the wall next to the open exit. "I don't trust you from here to the train tracks." He pressed the gun against the back of Snakes' neck now. "Give me your gun."

Scowling, Snakes handed it over. "What are you planning on doing with me, West? You don't have no call to get me arrested."

"I'm not trying to get you arrested," Jim responded calmly. "You're going to come with me back to the golf club, tell your story, and stay there until we're sure you're telling the truth."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Snakes shot back. "What is it you're not telling me?"

Jim's eyes flashed and darkened. "Someone set up a bomb in Arte's and my room," he said. "And Arte walked into it. If that person was you . . ."

"It wasn't!" Snakes yelped in legitimate alarm. "Okay, so I know you and Gordon could've gone down with Posey and her crew on that mountain, and I'm not saying I would've cared if you had, but they were the ones I was really after all along. I wouldn't set my sights on you and Gordon!"

"Not even if someone paid you to do it?" Jim returned.

"No one paid me," Snakes insisted. "I was at the club following the other Pinto. That's all."

"We'll see." Jim hauled Snakes away from the wall and moved closer to the back of the caboose.

"You're not going to make me jump, at the speed we're going!" Snakes burst out.

Jim studied the scenery as they rushed past. Extracting the gun in his sleeve, he pulled the trigger and ejected his trusty grappling hook. It soared through the air, catching on two nearby boulders that were resting on a mountain the train was passing by.

"Go on!" Jim barked.

With the gun at his head, Snakes had little choice but to comply. He grabbed the rope along with Jim, his eyes wide and filled with fear as they flew off of the train and swooped through the air to land on the mountain ledge.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" Jim said, still cold as he gathered his hook.

Snakes held a hand to his heart as he tried to catch his breath. "That's easy for you to say," he sputtered.

Jim prodded him towards the downward slope. "Come on," he ordered.

Without much other choice, Snakes obeyed.

xxxx

Frank Cannon found the woman with the scarf to be both intriguing and somehow concerning. She was very calm and collected as she spoke, but some of her questions seemed off.

"Now, Miss, I really don't know anything about Mr. Norman's chief of security," he said, keeping his voice light but staying on high alert. "I'm terribly curious; would you mind enlightening me as to why you're so interested?"

The woman looked disgruntled. "I wondered who he is. That's all." She shifted position. "I've heard that it's almost impossible to learn any background information on him."

"And why should you care about that?" Frank returned. "Not that it isn't interesting, but I fail to see what relevance it has to you or why you would even be investigating."

"Well . . ." She shrugged helplessly. "If I wanted to store some of my valuables here, like the Stones are doing, I'd rather know that the main person who would be guarding them was trustworthy."

"Mr. Norman must trust him," Frank replied. Finished with cleaning his golf club, he lined it up with the ball and struck it hard.

"I'm not sure that's a very encouraging thing," the woman said with a tight smile. "I'm new here. I only learned recently that Mr. Norman was a blackmailer."

"Ah, but was happens to be a very key word," Frank said. "I'm personally acquainted with Mr. Norman, and I can assure you that he has indeed turned over a new leaf."

She quirked an eyebrow. "And I should believe you? Forgive me, but I don't know you, either."

"The Los Angeles Police Department can vouch for me," Frank said. He looked to her, stone serious now. "And who can vouch for you?"

"Me?! What have I to do with it?!" she exclaimed.

"Well, you see, I learned that someone was injured when a bomb exploded inside the building." Frank's eyes narrowed. "And right before it happened, security guards were chasing a woman with a scarf into the very wing where the bomb was planted."

She rocked back, visibly uncomfortable. "There could be lots of women with scarves here," she retorted.

"Yes, there could be," agreed Frank. "But I can only recall seeing one other besides you. And that was Mrs. Stone."

It was then that a golf cart came into view, driven by Ray with Coley accompanying him. The woman turned, adjusting her scarf and sunglasses.

"I don't mean any harm, Mr. Cannon," she said stiffly. "I'm sincere in what I'm wondering about the management here."

"You don't seem very keen on letting the management see you," Frank mused.

"If a woman with a scarf is a top suspect, it isn't hard to understand why, is it?" she shot back.

"No, it's not hard at all. But if you're innocent, it seems to me that you should be willing to stick around and prove it." Frank stared her down, while out of the corner of his eye he watched the cart stop and the occupants get out.

"Hold that woman!" Ray called.

Frank looked to him calmly. "Hello, Mr. Norman. I was hoping I'd see you, but I didn't think it would be under these circumstances. As for the young lady, I don't think she's going anywhere." He glanced back at the woman, who still looked like she wanted to bolt. "She wants to make sure she doesn't get accused of planting that bomb."

Coley crossed his arms. "I'd like to make sure she doesn't, either, if she didn't do it. I just want the one who did." He looked to her. "Where were you right before the bomb went off? That must've been around two hours ago."

"I was golfing," the woman responded with indignation. "I was nowhere near the employees' wing and I didn't set any bomb!"

Ray frowned. "Did you tell her it was in the employees' wing, Mr. Cannon?"

"No, I did not." Frank regarded her searchingly. "Now, you didn't actually say you weren't already aware of the explosion before I said anything. Were you golfing up to the time that you came across me? You didn't bring any clubs with you. But I'd have to wonder why you'd come back out here if you were already finished."

"I . . ." She looked back and forth between the three men, desperate for a way out. "I heard about the explosion when I took my clubs back. And I came back out because I lost an earring!"

"Perhaps," Frank said slowly. "But an explosion at a golf club is big news. If you'd just come from hearing about it, why didn't you pass the news along to me? And why haven't you acted as though you're looking for something? You didn't even ask me if I saw a missing earring. The only questions I've heard from you have been about Mr. Rodman here."

Coley shot the woman a Look. "What did you want to know about me?" he demanded.

"And why?" Ray added. "Are you in on the plot to kill him?! Are you the one who asked the Stones where the best place would be to do it?!"

She turned sheet-white. Snatching one of Frank's clubs from his golf bag, she swung it furiously at Ray, who ducked and grabbed for it. Letting it go, she ran for the golf cart.

Coley met her at the open door. "It won't do you any good," he said flatly. "Ray has the key." He took hold of her arm. "You'd better give us some answers. Now."

She looked at him in resigned helplessness. As the fight went out of her, her shoulders slumped. "How could you know about what I said to the Stones?" she wondered. "There wasn't anyone around."

"Obviously you're wrong," Ray said. "There was someone."

He looked to Frank. "Thank you for holding her for us, Mr. Cannon." A weak smile. "I wasn't expecting to see you under these circumstances, either."

"I'm sure you weren't," Frank nodded. He eyed the two seats in the cart. "But you're going to need more than one golf cart to get back with her. How about I bring mine and come along?"

"Yes, please," Ray said in relief.

xxxx

To his relief, Arte woke up feeling far more refreshed than when he had lain down. He slowly eased himself out of the bed, yawning as he ran a hand through his hair. As he got up, shuffling towards the doorway, he paused in amazement to hear the voices in the corridor.

The first, deep and aloof and serious, was definitely Jim's; there was no mistake about that. But the second, which was also familiar, had a pronounced Southern accent. And the owner was very displeased about being there.

Arte raised an eyebrow. "James, James, whatever have you gotten into now?" he muttered, easing the door open.

Down the hall, by his and Jim's old room, Arte could see Jim pointing out the damage to a thoroughly disagreeable Snakes Tolliver.

"I didn't do that," Snakes insisted. "I was only here following that other Pinto. I told you that!"

"I know you told me." Jim pointed at the wreckage. "But now I want you to tell me if you can think of anyone who might build a bomb as a warning and not to kill."

Snakes took a few cautious steps forward. "It'd take an expert," he said slowly. "They'd have to know just how much of a charge to use so it wouldn't blow someone to pieces."

"The police already deduced that much," Jim said flatly. "And the last I heard, you're an expert."

"I could do it, alright," Snakes nodded. Rushing on, he added, "But I didn't!"

Jim crossed his arms. "What about Cyril? Could he do it?"

Snakes paused, thinking about it, and shook his head. "I don't think so. Cyril likes a lot of fire. Anyway, he wouldn't do anything unless Posey told him to. He just takes orders from her. And I don't know why Posey would do this to you all of a sudden."

"What if someone took the one thing she cares about and threatened to kill him if she didn't?" Jim suggested. "Would she do it then?"

Snakes looked back to him, an entertained grin tugging on his lips. "You mean that thing with her and Pinto? Well, I couldn't tell you about that. As far as I know, he's just a plaything to her. But he is loyal to her. And she's got this thing about loyalty. I don't think she'd stand by and let him get killed."

"I don't think she would, either," Jim said.

"But she wouldn't let the gang get pushed around by someone else, either," Snakes went on. "She'd find a way to kill whoever was holding Pinto."

"A very interesting analysis, Snakes," Arte declared as he sauntered over, finally deciding to make his presence known. "And Jim and I happen to know that Miss Posey does love Pinto, very much. That would only make her all the more determined not to let anything happen to him."

Snakes jumped a mile. Jim turned, smiling to see Arte up and around. "Hey, Arte," he greeted. "You must be feeling a lot better."

"Oh, I am," Arte agreed. "It's the strangest thing, though, Jim. I have the feeling that I kept seeing a very fluffy head and green eyes peering at me whenever I started to wake up. But then when I fully woke up, nothing was there!"

Jim grinned. "So you think you were hallucinating the whole thing?"

"I don't quite know what I think," Arte said.

"You know what I think?" Jim said, pretending to look contemplative. "I think Jane was checking up on you and Lafe. I saw her going in and out of your rooms."

Arte blinked. "Oh really? I thought she only had eyes for Coley and Ray."

"She cares about us, too," said Jim, "even if we can't convince her to leave Ray's office when she wants to wait up for him and Rodman."

Snakes looked back and forth between them. "Who's this Jane?" he wondered. Sneering, he added, "With a lot of fluffy hair she sounds like a real strange lady."

A disapproving meow made him look down in surprise.

Arte could not resist a smile. "That, Snakes," he said, seeing the silver Persian curling around the doorway, "is Jane. And she's quite a lovely lady, fluff and all."

Jane purred.

Snakes only had time to gawk in disbelief before the conversation was interrupted. Ray rushed down the hall, Frank Cannon right behind him.

"Mr. Norman, what's going on?" Arte queried, surprised now himself.

"Mr. Cannon got a call on his mobile phone just as we got back here," Ray announced. "There was a shooting in a neighborhood where one of Mr. Cannon's friends lives. And it's on the same street where Miss Posey is!"