Chapter 10

Charlie stood at one of his blackboards, writing furiously. At the sound of the door opening, he glanced over his shoulder. "Hey, Don. Supper ready?"

"Yeah. Dad is still wondering what's going on. Don't be surprised if he plies you with liquor."

Charlie sighed. "I'm going to tell him."

"Are you sure?"

Charlie nodded. "He has a right to know. We're not sure which of us was being targeted. We're not even sure why we're being targeted. What if they decide to go after Dad next?"

"Don't you think that's stretching it a bit?"

"It may be. But he knows something's going on, and knowing Dad, he's not going to give up until he finds out."

Don patted Charlie on the shoulder. "That must be where you got it from." At Charlie's scowl, he added, "But don't worry. I've got your back, Buddy." He nodded toward the blackboard. "How's it coming?"

"I think it's ready for me to input. I'm going to get back to it after supper." He grinned. "Or, depending on how Dad reacts, it may be sooner."

Liz handed them each a beer as they entered the dining room. "Your father's orders" she said, grinning.

Charlie took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen. "Dad?"

Alan turned. "Yes?"

Charlie handed Alan the beer. "Here. I don't need this. I'm going to tell you what happened today."

"Do I need to sit down?"

"It wouldn't hurt," Charlie said, pulling over two kitchen chairs. He waited until his father sat, and then he sat in front of him. "Today I was driving Don's car. I was leaving campus and someone shot at me."

Alan grabbed Charlie's shoulders and studied his face closely. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Dad. The bullet shattered the windshield and went into the passenger's seat."

"Who did it?"

"We don't know yet. We don't even know if they were after me or Don. That's one of the reasons I decided to tell you. Since we don't know who they're after, or why, I think you should be careful."

"You are the one who needs to be careful." Alan touched Charlie's bruised cheek. "You've been beaten up and shot at already."

Charlie patted Alan's hand. "I am being careful. I just need you and Don to be careful too." He stood. "What can I do to help with supper?"

"That's it? I don't even get time to raise a fuss?"

"I'm hungry," Charlie said, grinning. "Can you raise your fuss after we eat?"

Don and Liz looked up as Alan and Charlie carried the steaks into the dining room. "Hey," Don said, "you're still alive, Buddy. And I didn't hear any screaming from the kitchen."

Alan scowled at Don. "Your brother was hungry after his ordeal today. An ordeal you could have told me about."

"What? I've been working. Chuck could have called you while he was waiting at the scene for me. But he was busy playing computer games."

Charlie punched Don on the arm. "Hey! What happened to 'I've got your back?'"

"Boys!" Alan scolded, "Cut it out. Sit down and eat your supper before it gets cold."

Alan," Liz said after she'd swallowed her first bite of steak, "the steak is fantastic. Do you mind if I ask, what's your secret?"

"Thank you, Liz. The secret is to find a good butcher."

Don chuckled. "And it helps if you date the butcher, right Dad?"

"We had one date. We decided we were better off as butcher and customer."

Charlie looked up from cutting his steak. "And a wonderful relationship it is, too.

"So, Charlie," Alan began, "is it possible this shooting is related to the case you and Don are working on?"

"Whoa," Charlie said, "Where did that come from?"

"You didn't really think you could drop a bomb like that and then distract me with supper, did you?"

"And here I thought it worked." Charlie paused to take a drink of beer. "It is possible they're related. It's also possible the shooting is related to the students who filed the complaint against me. We're exploring both possibilities."

"We're also exploring the possibility that its a random act of violence," Don added.

"In that neighborhood? Do you really think that's possible?" Alan scoffed.

"Hey," Don said, shrugging, "we're leaving no stone unturned.'

"Well," Charlie said, "after supper, I'm going to run my algorithm and hopefully it'll give us some idea what's going on."

"Oh my," Liz said, "You're doing this without Amita to write the program for you?"

"She wanted to watch Saturday Night Live," Charlie said. He glanced at his watch, "But I could see if she'd mind coming over here to watch it."

"How romantic," Liz smirked. "You didn't even invite her over for dinner. Just a bit of programming followed by an hour and a half of bad comedy."

"It's not that bad," Charlie objected. He picked up his phone and started dialing.

"Stop!" Alan said. "You are not going to drag Amita out at this hour of the night to do something you're perfectly capable of doing yourself."

"But Amita loves working on this kind of thing."

"Charlie," Alan said, reaching over to close Charlie's phone, "if I know you, you've already had her working all day on this thing. Give the girl a break." He smiled ruefully at Liz. "My sons have to be the least romantic men on earth. At least Don brought you over for dinner after making you work all day."

Liz took Don's hand. "I enjoy working for Don. Especially when it involves dinner at Chez Eppes."

After the table was cleared and the dishes done, Charlie went to the garage to work on his program. When he returned, Don was dozing and Alan and Liz were critiquing the current cast of Saturday Night Live.

"I don't know, Alan, I like Amy Poehler."

"She's no Jane Curtin."

"Hey, Don!" Charlie flopped onto the couch next to his brother.

"Hmmm? What?" Don sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Guess who Ellen Davis is connected with?"

"Uh... Billy Jones? Was she his teacher?"

"No. Ellen Davis' maiden name was Spencer. Granted, it's a pretty common surname. However, she was Greg Spencer's cousin."

"Really?" Alan said, sitting up and reaching for the TV controller. "SNL has gone steadily downhill since the John Belushi days." He turned off the TV. "So the students who are making your life miserable are involved in the museum thefts?"

"We don't know that," Charlie said softly. He looked away from Alan's skeptical expression. "Not for sure, anyway. But... it's looking like a good possibility."

Don said, "So the whole thing with filing the complaint against you could have been intended to keep you from consulting on this case." Charlie looked so miserable, Don sat up and patted him on the shoulder. "You okay, Buddy?"

"Yeah. I just can't believe Greg, Jason and Daniel were involved in this. Could Greg have been involved in his cousin's death?" Charlie stood. "I've got the file on the murder. I'll see if there's anything connecting him to her murder." His face brightened. "It still stinks, but maybe she was murdered for some reason totally unrelated to the thefts." He headed back to the garage. "I'll be back. Enjoy your show."

Alan shook his head and turned the TV back on.

--

As Charlie worked, he became aware of his cell phone ringing. He flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Charlie," Amita said, "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

Charlie laughed. "You know me better than that. I'm making a few changes to my program."

"I'm disappointed you didn't call me to help."

"Oh, wait until Dad hears this. I wanted to call you, but he told me I should give you a break. He also said Don and I are the two least romantic men on earth."

Amita chuckled. "I don't know about Don, but you're very romantic. And you can tell your father I said so."

He felt the heat rising to his face at the sound of her voice. "I... I will," he stammered.

"How about I come over there and help you with your program?"

Charlie checked his watch. "It's almost midnight. You don't need..."

"I know I don't need to. I want to. Besides, at this hour, the traffic should be bearable."

"My dad will kill me if you show up. He'll be convinced I talked you into coming."

"I'll come to the door and ask if you're home."

Charlie grinned. "That'll work. If you'd like, I can reheat supper for you. We had ribeye."

"That's okay. I ate hours ago. Just make sure there's lots of coffee. If we're going to pull an all-nighter, we're going to need it."

"Good idea. See you in a few minutes. By the way, why aren't you watching Saturday Night Live?"

"It's a rerun. Love you."

Charlie smiled as he closed his phone. He decided to start the coffee before he got engrossed in his work again. As he walked through the living room, Alan looked up at him. "Sorry to interrupt again," he said softly. "I'm making coffee. Anybody want any?"

"Coffee? At this hour?" Alan scoffed. "You'll never get to sleep."

"I'm planning on working on this 'til my program's done. Only the best for the FBI," he added with a grin.

"Charlie," Don said, "you don't have to do that."

"You want to be ready for the big show at the Hammer, right? That doesn't give us a lot of time to figure out what's going on." With an obviously fake sigh, he continued, "And since you're too busy watching TV, it falls to me, the lowly consultant to solve the case yet again!" He dodged a pillow thrown by Don. "Hey! So that's the thanks I get!"

"That and a hefty consulting fee," Don chuckled.

"Seriously, I want to work this out when it's fresh in my mind," Charlie said as he went into the kitchen to make the coffee.

He was safely in the garage, engrossed in his programming, when Amita arrived. He hid a smile when Alan opened the door to the garage. "Charlie, you have company."

Charlie stood, feigning surprise. "Amita! What are you doing here? At this hour?" At Alan's sharp glance, he shrugged, "What? I didn't call her."

"Right," Alan said. "Amita, I can trust you to tell me the truth. My son didn't call you and ask you to drive over here at midnight, did he?"

"Of course not," Amita said. "He's much too considerate to do a thing like that." Alan snorted and Amita shrugged. "I figured he'd be up working on something more interesting than a Saturday Night Live rerun."

As Alan walked back to the living room, Charlie could hear him mutter, "Anything is more interesting than this particular rerun."

Charlie wrapped Amita in his arms and gave her a kiss. "I can think of more interesting things to do than programming..."

"With everybody in the next room? Not a chance!" Amita gave him a peck on the cheek and pulled free of his arms to go look at the computer. "What have you got so far?"