Bud Skeeter was on a one man crusade. His boss and close friend had been shot and critically wounded only a few hours ago. When Skeeter had seen who it was laying on the ground in a pool of blood, he secretly vowed to himself that he'd personally track down the gunmen. He ran into a slight dilemma though. Jimmy was lying in a hospital bed under the watchful eye of his spouse while Kenny and Max were still out of town-so who did that leave in charge? Deputy Skeeter strongly felt it should be him, yet he had only joined the Rome, Wisconsin sheriff department just seven years ago. 'Now is not the time to be thinking about chain of command,' he thought as he drove through the neighborhood where Brock had been gunned down. Based upon those statements obtained from eyewitnesses, Skeeter was supposedly searching for a rather flashy looking newer model four-door sedan with chrome all over; tires, grill, trim. The driver and passenger were clean cut, something unusual for criminal nature, which simply refused to cooperate with Rome's toughest top cop. Skeeter had a hunch as to who they were; a couple of young men who lived in a two-story house on the outskirts of Rome and were at one juncture in time, found to be contributing to the black market in order to make a living.
"Dude, you really showed that cop whose boss," congratulated the driver, his cohort, a man who his clients referred to as "Razor" due to his slick selling techniques to the gullible public.
"Should a paid close attention," said Razor, gleaming at the driver. "Damn cops-think they fucking know everything in this town. Bastards." It can be noted that these guys dislike the law enforcement profession. The two men just burst out laughing, hoping they were successful in the murder of Rome's most prominent figure.

While Bud Skeeter set out to track down Jimmy's shooters, Jill had come to terms with her anxiety about telephoning her children. For the time being, he was doing much better than anticipated-Brock had been extubated per protocol and for once was breathing on his own; still needed maintenance oxygen, per nasal cannula, but was breathing on his own, an improvement from only a few hours earlier.

The three Brock children were home and in their beds; everyone was sleeping except Kimberly, who had sensed something went wrong when her mother failed to come home at 11:45pm. She had been staring at the ceiling for two hours until the gaze was interrupted by the telephone ringing. Kim ran into her parent's room and picked it up.
"Hello?" Kimberly answered.
"Kimberly? Is that you?" Jill asked on the other end.
"Yes. Mom, where are you?"
"I am still at the hospital. Listen to me very carefully, OK?"
There was a moment of silence on Kim's end of the phone. Usually when Jill said to listen, something terrible had happened. Kimberly tried to brace herself for what she was about to hear.
"Get the boys up and bring them to Thayer"-Jill paused for a moment and proceeded to try and complete her sentence without leading on she was about to cry. "Your father has been shot and wounded very critically. We had him in the OR for a little over two hours but we, thankfully, managed to repair his injuries. I think it would be to our best interest if we stuck to this like a family."
Kimberly felt as though her entire universe had collapsed before her. She knew she had to stay composed, not revealing to her mother or anyone else for that matter, she was about to crack. "You did the surgery?" She was stuck for words, what else could she say?
"Yes. I am extremely exhausted; psychologically, physiologically, emotionally. I think right now we need to help daddy get through this."
Jill needn't say anything more. Kimberly had woken Matthew and Zach and told them to get dressed. All the way to the hospital, Matthew sulked, Zachary shed every last tear and Kim couldn't quite grasp the idea that her father-a man she had little disputes with, almost died in her mother's arms. The thought scared the hell out of her. Never, in all of her 18 ½ years on this earth did she imagine she might actually lose the person she was so close to, yet seemed so far away.

To Be Continued..