Sorry the Holiday's are getting the better of me... have a great Christmas Eve and a Blessed Christmas!

Chapter 5

The day started as normal. Penhall got up, got showered and got dressed. He opened the refrigerator door and pulled out the open orange juice container and shook it wildly. He listened for the liquid to reverberate against the side of the orange plastic bottle. Satisfied with the amount of liquid contained in the bottle he unscrewed the cap, tilted the opening to his lips and felt the cold orange flavored liquid as it slipped down his throat. Once content with what he had consumed he screwed the lid back on and put it back on the top shelf of his refrigerator. He looked around at what once resembled food and decided he would have better luck with the cabinet above the sink. Before he could get there he found the leftover pizza from the night before and decided that would be the best breakfast. He opened the lid and took the slice of pepperoni pizza and bit into the now cold doughy crust. The cold tomato sauce and congealed pepperoni and cheese wasn't near as good the second time around, but it too would do. He looked at his watch and realized he had fifteen minuets to get to the chapel and meet with Booker and Fuller. He swallowed his last bite of pizza and headed for the door.

Shit… Dennis Booker! How the hell did I get Dennis Booker! I can't stand his stupid, sarcastic, ass. Sure, he helped to get Hanson off the hook but come on. How many more times do I have to work with him before I can work with Hoffs or Ioki again? Hell, I would rather work with Fuller than Booker. At least with the captain I know where I stand.

--

"Good of you to join us." Fuller remarked as Doug walked slowly through the door to his office. "Have a seat." He motioned to the chair across from him. Booker sat in the other immediately next to Penhall's.

Doug Penhall sat down slowly on the hard unforgiving surface as Fuller began.

"I got a call from Margaret Hanson last night, Tom's in good shape. She thinks he'll probably be released later tomorrow." Fuller sat back in his leather chair his elbows resting on the arm rest of the chair, and his fingers joined in front of him.

"That's good." Penhall acknowledged cautiously.

"Any leads on who did this?" Booker asked leaning heavily on the left arm rest of the chair.

"Hoffs and Ioki have begun interviewing the kids who found Hanson and they said they didn't know anything. One of the kids… Shelly Snider remembers the principle Bob Trumble taking a phone call from someone while they were waiting on the medics." Fuller picked up a manila folder and handed it to Booker to look at.

"Has anyone checked out Roger Sullivan? He had Hanson had it out after class. He was also the last person with Hanson after this all happened. He had him in detention." Doug inquired.

"Maybe you should feel him out Penhall. After all Tommy is your little brother." Fuller raised an eyebrow at Doug.

Doug squinted at Captain Fuller and then looked at Booker.

"What the hell do you mean by that Cap?"

"Well Doug… if you had a little brother and he got his ass kicked by someone… wouldn't you be gunning for who did it? Just… don't do anything… "stupid" Officer Penhall."

"Who… me? I wouldn't dream of it Captain Fuller." Doug pointed to himself and then cocked his left eyebrow.

"Well Doug… that scares me more than you know." Fuller stated.

"I won't let him get himself into too much trouble." Booker looked to his right as he gnawed on a toothpick.

"This is going to turn out so badly for me. Better yet I'll send Ioki and Hoffs in to question Sullivan." Fuller said as he leaned forward in his chair again rubbing his forehead. "You know your cover Doug. Booker… you're a transfer from Eastern. You spent the last two years in juvenile correction for assaulting a student and a teacher. You, Doug and Tommy knew each other while on the inside. You two need to keep an eye on each other and watch for anything suspicious."

"Got it!" Dennis pushed his chair as he stood up thumbing through the file folder. "Hey look, I got an "A" in shop" Booker chuckled. "Dennis Adams… hmmm… that's a new one."

"Great." Doug whispered loudly as he stomped out of the room.

--

"Hey Captain Fuller… can I talk to you?" Sal Banducci also known as Blowfish walked towards Adam Fuller as he walked out of his office.

"What is it Sal?" Fuller asked while continuing to walk.

"Hey… you know I was talking to Hanson about the dude who attacked him…"

Fuller stopped in his tracks and looked down at Blowfish who continued to talk very animated at him.

"You were talking to Hanson about this case?" Fuller furrowed his brow as he continued to watch the noticeably shorter Jump Street Chapel Sanitation Engineer.

"Yeah… anyways…"

"Why were you talking to Hanson about a case?" Fuller interrupted.

"Well… you know… I have a curiosity about things. Besides Tommy's my friend."

Fuller sighed loudly as he turned his attention to the filing cabinets in front of him. "Sal… if you have a point please make it. I have a meeting with the Chief of Metro in ten minutes."

"Oh… sure… anyways… I... I mean he told me he heard a noise coming from the person who attacked him." Sal nodded his head and winked at Fuller.

Adam Fuller rolled his eyes as he dug a file out of the filing cabinets. He slammed the drawer shut and looked back down at Blowfish. "Is that it… he heard a noise." Fuller raised his eyebrows expecting something else.

"Oh yeah… he said it sounded like something jingling." Sal grinned as he waited for anything to assure him that Captain Fuller had understood him. His eyes sparkled beneath the dark rims of his oversized glasses.

Fuller smiled and wiped his fingers across his face. He took in a deep breath as he looked to the side.

Be nice… he's only trying to help.

"That's it?" Fuller asked initiating a nod from Sal who was standing proudly in his drab gray janitorial jump suit. "The last toilet women's restroom is clogged. Get to work." Fuller patted Blowfish on the back as he walked past him and towards his office where he grabbed his overcoat and flipped his light out and then headed out the door.

Sal stood dumbfounded. He had just given Adam Fuller so much information and he was just shot down. Didn't his detective work count for anything? He tried not to let the disappointment reflect on his face as he took a deep breath and then let it out. "The toilet in the women's restroom is clogged…" he quoted in a mocking tone. "Man can't get no respect around here." He headed to his broom closet where he grabbed the plunger and picked it up. He looked at the black rubber stopper on the end. He thought about his wife and numerous children. "I love my job… Rosie… I do it all for you baby."

--

Doug Penhall walked towards his American History class. His sights were glued to the man standing inside of the door. He walked purposefully into the classroom where students were starting to gather for their second period class. He walked straight past the students who all the sudden were quiet as he stormed into the room. His eyes continued to remain on his target. He walked past another student who was holding a piece of paper in his hands and pointing at something asking Mr. Sullivan for assistance. He pushed past the student when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Doug McQuaid!" Dennis Booker said loudly. "Holy shit… sorry… man I haven't seen you since… what's it been? Two years?"

"I guess." Penhall seemed upset to have been stopped in his mission. He maintained eye contact with Roger Sullivan.

"Dennis Adams, young man, I realize you're new but I will not tolerate that kind of language in my classroom. Do I make myself clear?"

Dennis recoiled rather quickly as he bit down on a mocking snicker. Booker leaned his neck to the right and then the left as he loosened up the stiff muscles. He then cocked an eyebrow as he grinned at Mr. Sullivan.

"So you must be the drill sergeant." He commented offensively.

"This is your first day… so I'll over look your bad manners if you'll sit down in your seat and keep quiet for the next forty minutes." Mr. Sullivan responded coldly as he pointed to the empty desk in the back row. "And you, Mr. McQuaid… I understand you're upset about what happened to your brother. But you need to take your seat and keep yourself under control in my classroom."

Doug Penhall continued to hold his position next to Dennis Booker. He let his eyes continue to gouge holes in the older man. There was so much evidence pointing to Sullivan that it just continued to consume him.

"I said SIT DOWN!" The teacher took a threatening step towards Penhall who locked eyes with the older man.

Doug narrowed his line of vision as he squinted his brown eyes. He lowered his chin towards his chest and he stood straighter. He puffed out his chest in smooth defiance of the teacher. The officer behaved like a man seeking revenge for his brother's savage assault. The unfortunate circumstances had Doug Penhall on the edge of his last nerve. He was on the verge of falling hard down a chasm of darkness and violent obsession. It had been his responsibility to make sure Hanson had made it home that night but he was too consumed with his own personal affairs and had let his best friend down. The only problem with his assumption was that the evidence surrounding his case was all circumstantial. Sure… it pointed directly to Roger Sullivan. But then again someone else had something to do with this too.

"Now!" Sullivan pointed at Doug's empty desk.

"Doug… Douggie… Douglas…" Booker grabbed a hold of Doug's jacket sleeve and tugged on it. His new partner stood rigid as he continued to stand his ground.

"Is there a problem here?" Principle Bill Trumble asked as he walked into the classroom. He crossed into the classroom his right hand tucked in his pocket. He could be heard almost across the school from the jingling of change in his hip pocket. He patted Doug on the shoulder as he stopped in front of Sullivan, Penhall and Booker. Mr. Trumble was an incredibly tall man who stood very statuesque in his perfectly tailored business suits. He was in his late forties. He smiled brightly as he found it best to be the best friend to the students as opposed to being their head disciplinarian and educator at the school. He sported a cleanly shaved face all but the neatly trimmed mustache and beard that grew from his face and chin. He left his hand on Penhall's firm shoulder as he smiled at Doug and Dennis.

"No." Doug growled.

"Yeah… were getting along grandly." Sullivan seethed as he raised his right eyebrow.

"Well that's great. Whey don't you two gentlemen take your seat for me and let Mr. Sullivan start his class." Trumble smiled limply as he thumped Penhall on the shoulder. "Boy you have strong shoulders youngster… you ever thought of football."

Doug looked coldly over his shoulder at the principal grinning with the same overly friendly stare he always had. Like he had known you since you were in diapers. He acted as if he was your best buddy and yet he was completely removed from the darkness that loomed over his school.

"No." Doug answered with the same frigidness in his voice.

"That's a shame. Coach Nixon would be thrilled to have you." Trumble flashed a pearly white toothy grin at Penhall who wrinkled his brow and walked back to the back of the classroom and planted himself at an empty desk. Trumble turned and walked towards Sullivan. He rubbed his thumb over his lower lip and then looked down at Sullivan. "See… they respond well to being their friend. Try it sometime." He turned and walked out of the room shutting the door behind him.

--

"I thought something was going to happen in there Mr. Trumble." Willy Burke stated standing outside of the door. "That's the brother… of…"

"I know who it is. He's fine. He's had some stress. He'll be fine." Mr. Trumble flashed a smile at the janitor who stood in the doorway. "Why don't you go ahead and get your work finished and take lunch son."

"Yes sir." Burke smiled as he pushed the sleeves up on his dank blue janitorial garb. He grasped the wooden handle of the mop in his hands and began to push the yellow bucket down the hallway. His arms flexed, involuntarily rippling the solid muscles of his heavily worked arms.

--

"Can you tell me anything else at all about that morning?" Judy Hoffs and Harry Ioki had interviewed all the witnesses and were preparing to throw their pens and notepads up in the air. Nothing was all they had gotten. All of the kids were afraid of what they had seen. They were good kids who were normally good students but they had messed up on their path of life. Shelly Snider had been able to offer nothing either.

"I wish I could tell you something else." Her brow furrowed on her forhead as she watched Principle Trumble walk into his office.

"Shelly… are you alright?" Harry asked gently.

"I… there is something else." Shelly said still watching the principle.

Harry turned his attention to the man sitting at his desk sipping steaming liquid from a glass mug. He watched the principle for a moment and then turned his attention back to Shelly.

"Shelly… do you think…"

"Principle Trumble got a phone call. He tapped Tommy on the foot and walked away from us. I thought that was sort of strange." She stated.

"Well cell phones are a nuisance but I hardly think that a phone call is out of the ordinary for a principle." Judy Hoffs stated raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah… but Tommy was bleeding really badly; and he seemed less concerned about him when he got the call. It was like he was concerned with whoever was on the other line. I mean I know that he has all kinds of priorities… but… shouldn't the principle be more concerned with a kid who was found bleeding and nearly unconscious in the hallway at six thirty in the morning?" Shelly still had her brow furrowed when she looked down at the floor. "Is he alright?"

"Tom is gonna be fine. Thanks for your time Shelly." Harry replied with a similar look of concern on his face. As he grabbed Judy up from her chair and the two walked out of the empty classroom.

"What?" Judy asked stopping dead in her tracks as they cleared earshot of others.

"Jude… she made sense. The deal with the phone..."

Judy took in a deep breath as she realized he was right. "Oh my… do you think…"

"I don't know Jude. We need his phone records… we need to know who he was talking to at six thirty yesterday morning."

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