The Heart of a Man: 4
	"You sure do move fast partner," Jody said as Peter closed the front door. 
He ran a distracted hand around the back of his neck and shot her a warning 
look.
 She raised her hands in surrender. "Hey, it's just a comment. I 
mean, last time I saw you, you needed your father's help to stay on your 
feet. And in less than what," she glanced at her watch, "6 hours, the art 
director lady is banging down your door. Whatever you got, maybe you ought 
to bottle it."
 Peter shot her another look, but didn't comment, continuing to 
ponder what Jenine had said. Something seemed slightly off, but he couldn't 
put his finger on it.
 "Okay," Jody blew out a breath. "I came to check on you. I tried 
to call, but when I didn't even get your machine I thought I'd come by. I 
ran into your father downstairs and he seemed sorta happy to see me. 
Although, he didn't mention that I'd have to rescue you."
 Peter refused to rise to the bait. "I'm fine. I think Pop turned 
the ringer off." He thought he vaguely remembered it ringing after he'd 
dropped off to sleep. Moving toward his kitchen, he went to reactivate the 
device. The answering machine's 'tape full' light was flashing, and the 
telephone's ringer switch had been moved to off.
 "Well that explains that," she said. "Now riddle me this, Batman: 
Why would these masked gunmen come into a jewelry store and walk out with 
only a collection of Oriental vases while leaving a fortune in diamonds and 
gems just lying on the floor?"
 Peter looked up sharply. "They didn't take any of the jewelry? 
Nothing?"
 "Not a thing, according to the manager as well as Mizz Jenine 
Smith."
 Peter opened his mouth to respond but the phone bell cut him off.
 "Hello?" A grimace crossed his face before he hung up and reached 
for the TV remote control.
 "Disgruntled lady friend?" Jody asked.
 "Close," Peter responded as he flipped through the channels. "The 
president of my personal unfan club: Sandra Mason."
 "Oh, I didn't know she made house calls."
 "I get special dispensation," he said, finding the proper channel. 
Someone with a home video camera had obviously been present at the mall 
that morning. The image of Peter taking down the two gunmen and saving the 
little girl as well as Jody's struggle in the hall outside of the jewelry 
store was immortalized for all of the channel 3 viewing audience.
 Switching to a live scene from the Chinatown Mall, an on-site 
reporter stated that a portion of the famed Crawford Art Collection, valued 
at nearly $200,000 had disappeared with the masked robbers. The reporter 
pressed a finger to her ear for a few seconds before declaring that they 
would replay the exclusive video footage.
 Peter quickly activated his VCR and hit the record button.
 "You know, that really isn't my best side." Jody eyed the screen 
critically as the image of the fourth gunman, using the distraction of 
Peter and the little girl going down, kicked out, knocking her gun from her 
hand while his other buddy grabbed her and threw her into the jewelry store 
alongside Peter. He then held the gun on her, while he and the rest of his 
partners in crime made their escape.
 "You did go a little easy on them," Peter murmured, dryly.
 "Well let's see, little kids entering the crime scene, a woman 
yelling, a gunshot, a herd of bad guys galloping my way and you making like 
a speed bump. What the hell did you expect? I'm not freakin' Jane Wayne."
 Peter threw up his hands in surrender. "Hey, just kiddin' 
partner." Clicking off the television and the VCR, he grabbed his jacket.
 "Where you going?"
 "I need to check on a few things."
 "We need to check on a few things," Jody corrected as she sprung 
up behind him. "Besides, aren't you on sick leave again or something? Or at 
least off duty?"
 "Nah," Peter replied with a grin. "I'm fine. In top form thanks to 
a little Shaolin apothecary magic."
 "Yeah, magic. Right." Jody followed him out of the apartment.