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Within the hour, Mark was dressed in his own clothes and, accompanied by Hardcastle and Frank, re-entered the interrogation room. Agents Morris, Taylor, and Brunner were already awaiting them.

"I think we already tried this," Mark muttered under his breath.

Hardcastle glanced at him, sensing his agitation, watching the famous ex-con body language. He looks calm, but I can tell he's boiling inside. I'd better keep control of this, or he's going to do something stupid and end up back in that cell for real.

Frank observed both Mark and Milt. Okay, I really don't like the look that Mark is giving off and Milt looks like he's so gonna blow, so I'd better make sure we are outta here soon before something really bad happens.

Mark again dropped down in the chair in front of the microphone. Agent Morris turned on the tape recorder and started slowly, "Mr. McCormick, do you know a man by the name of Michael Spangoletti, commonly known as Mickey Spangoletti?"

"No, never heard of him," Mark answered the question with no reaction, face blank and cold.

Agent Morris produced a picture from a folder on the table supposedly of Spangoletti.

Mark just shook his head negatively, making no comment.

Oh boy this is not good, Hardcastle tried to will to him his own strength. Come on, kiddo, you can do this.

"Where were you today, Mr. McCormick?"

"I was at Gulls Way until approximately 9:30 or 10 am, I went to the local market along the Pacific Coast Highway to get something to eat, I met a young lady there, we talked for awhile, and I left there and then had dinner. I returned to Gulls Way at approximately 10 pm, wasn't home but five or ten minutes when Agent Brunner, here decided to bring me in to the Bureau."

Wow, totally no emotion, he's talking in a monotone, I got to make them wrap this up and soon, he needs to blow off some steam before he explodes or implodes. I've only ever seen him get this bad once or maybe twice since he was paroled into my custody; they are really starting to push his buttons to the extreme.

"Okay, do you have any idea why a mobster would want to have you followed and be trying to obtain information about you?"

"I work for Judge Hardcastle; maybe it stems from one of our past cases, I don't know, isn't that what you guys get PAID to investigate?" Mark snapped back. Okay, Mark, hold it together just a little bit longer, come on, Hardcase, get me outta here.

Okay, now he's getting the smart mouth back, time to shut this thing down.

"Enough, he's told you that he was with a girl today, which is exactly what he told Agent Brunner at my house, he's told you that he knows nothing about this Spangoletti guy. If there is nothing else, we are leaving, now!" Hardcastle gruffly demanded.

Agent Morris sighed, this day, actually yesterday, had not gone well at all. He still had no idea why Mickey Spangoletti was being paid big bucks to get information on this Mark McCormick for Patsy Martinelli. And now he had retired Judge Milton C. Hardcastle ticked off at him. The man never did like him ever since he was demoted for cutting a few corners in his investigations.

"You can go; I apologize for any inconvenience that we caused you, Mr. McCormick," Agent Morris stood and extended his hand to Mark who looked down and then purposely ignored it. Letting his hand drop, he continued, "Judge Hardcastle and Lieutenant Harper, good to see you both again," Morris offered as he turned off the tape recorder.

Another three pointer and Hardcastle ended with a deuce, the game, boys, is mine!

Mark got up and quickly exited the room, Hardcastle and Frank close on his heels. Once in the elevator, Mark closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, trying to steady his breathing.

"You okay, kiddo?" Hardcastle asked quietly.

Mark opened his eyes and gave Hardcastle a small smile, but it never reached his eyes.

I gotta get him home, now he's even being on guard with me.

"Good, don't think this is gonna get you outta your chores tomorrow," growled Hardcastle trying to keep up a sense of normalcy.

Finally making the parking garage, Mark, Milt and Frank piled into the car.

I'm glad I talked Mark into sitting up front with Frank. I didn't think he could handle being put in the back seat of a police car again, so soon.

Mark turned his head and faced the window but closed his eyes. He really didn't want to see anything; he just wanted to be quiet and alone, to deal with the overwhelming feelings that were screaming to come out.

Just a little while longer, you can hold it together until we get home.

I can sense his agitation I'm trying to give him space but let him know that I'm here to help. Hardcastle leaned forward and gripped Mark's shoulder.

Okay, relax, Mark, he's gonna feel that you're holding your breath, just a few minutes more. Oh, thank God, we are almost there! I see the turn up ahead. Okay, now through the gates and up the drive and park. God, I made it.

Mark scrambled out of the car like his life depended on it. He took a few quick strides towards the gatehouse, then he stopped and, without turning, said, "Thank you, Judge, Frank," quietly, then he continued his quick stride and was out of sight in the gatehouse.

He said it so quietly that I wasn't sure he said it 'til I saw Frank nodding.

"You know, Milt, that kid has been through the wringer tonight, but he held it together and waited for us to help him. It was like he knew we would be there as fast as we could get to him."

"Yep, he did real well," Hardcastle said proudly.

Although, something in the back of my mind just isn't sitting too well, something is still wrong. Is it because I know the kid is agitated and upset, on the verge of exploding or is it something more? Just a nibble, well it's just gonna have to wait until morning, well actually it is morning now, but I mean it has to wait until he gets up. I gotta let him try to get some rest now.

"See ya later, Milt, I'm gonna get home and crawl in bed before Claudia, gets awake and finds I haven't been to bed all night again," Frank explained as he climbed back into his car.

"See ya, Frank, and thank you," Hardcastle replied as he slowly walked to the house.

Once in bed, What's bothering me about all this? Maybe if I just close my eyes I'll just fall asleep, after all I can't ask McCormick now, it would put him over the edge. Just close my eyes. And sleep.

Oh, God, I need to relax, I feel like I just spent the last fifteen hours on a roller coaster and I've drank two pots of coffee. I am definitely strung way too tight right now. God, I have an uncle who's a mob boss and has just escaped the country on the run from the FBI and I know about it and have hidden it from the feds and the worst is Hardcastle how am I gonna explain this to him? Will he think I've been playing him all along? Maybe if I just lie down on the bed and start to count the holes in the ceiling tile. 1, . . 2, . . 3, . . 7, . . 15, . . 26, . .3 9.

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