I have no excuse, besides the overused writers block, though I know some people can relate. Anyways, it's out now. Enjoy

Chapter Nine: Pity.

I had been sitting in the car for two hours, and my butt was getting sore. Three games of snap, two games of poker, and who knows how many games of Black Jack, and Lester and I couldn't take it anymore. Besides, I had more pressing issues than catching the skip. I needed to pee!

Louis Kempt hadn't made an appearance, and I was starting to think my informant was wrong when they said he would be home tonight. That, or Louis was already passed out from liquor inside. I'd already been in his mold infested house, and I wasn't going to kick my way through beer cans again. When Lester told me to check inside for him, I stared at him.

"Come on, Steph. Let's go inside together," Lester said, grabbing a gun from under the seat. I sighed, because my pressing problem was getting worse, and I needed a toilet. If he was inside on his couch, I was leaving Lester to do it, while I ran a few streets down to Dani's place.

"Lee." I corrected, though I don't know why I bothered. He insisted on calling me Steph ever since I entered the car.

"Sure, whatever you say Steph." I sighed. Whatever.

"Come on, but just so you know, you're going first to clear a path." He grinned, and I rolled my eyes. I don't know why he was grinning at the prospect of wading through month old beer cans, but I was sure I didn't want to know.

We jumped out of the car, Lester as spry as a leopard, me clomping across the street. Kempt's house was a one story row house, complete with the old shabby blue and cream paint, that had definitely seen better days. It's garden was overgrown, sprouting weeds everywhere. I actually had the urge to start pulling out all the weeds, which was totally not like me. I had my own gardener to appraise my garden, so why did I feel the need to pull weeds?

"Because the lawn is nice and green, and the weeds ruin it." ESP is working fine, apparently.

"Thanks for the intel, Lester."

"No problem, Bomber."

We made it to the shabby off-white front door, and Lester started picking the lock. I looked intently on what he was doing, trying to pick things up to help me. It didn't work because he was too damn fast, but I saw some of it. I got the general idea, but kicking the door in is more my thing now.

"Come on," Lester tried to usher me forward, but I shook my head vehemently.

"After you, Les."

He grinned, but pushed his way through all the junk on the floor towards what I knew to be the lounge room. I don't know how he knew it was there, but I had an inkling he had done a little recon on this mission. I followed at a leisurely pace, hoping that by the time I got into the lounge room Lester would have found Kempt, secured Kempt, and be ready to get out of the flea infested dump of a house.

I looked at the off-set putrid green walls, and felt a new emotion. Pity. This man had lost everything, then got drunk and did a nude dance in the main street. Seems like his life was on the downhill slide, and I couldn't help. His wife and daughter ran away with another man to parts unknown. Seriously, what sort of woman was she? She left her husband with who knows how many debts, not to mention the gruesome task of telling her family that she had left. The family blames him. So, yeah, pity.

I set my sights on a photo of a family. The man, Louis Kempt was sitting on a bench, with who Im guessing was his wife, resting her head on his shoulder. A little girl no older then five was sitting on the floor in front of them, dressed in a pink flower dress and smiling the smile only kids can. A happy family, until they ran.

"Steph? You coming or not?" Lester poked his head around the corner of the hallway. I nodded, and started my way through after him again. Why do I have the sudden urge to hit myself? Because I left everybody too, leaving them with letters. Only marginally better then Kempt's ex. Mind you, I don't have a daughter.

"I think I found him," Lester stated, staring oddly at the couch.

"What do you mean, think?"

"I mean, I think it's him under all the rubbish," he shook his head, disbelieving. He shoved rubbish onto the ground, empty and not-so-empty packets of chips, yet more beer cans, and God knows what else. They all fell to the floor, clattering against the tile. The clattering woke up Kempt, and he shot up.

I could finally see him over the back of the sofa, and I was kinda hoping he would lie back down. His hair was a mess, what I could see of his shirt was a mess, and I was betting his pants were a mess. He was a mess.

"Mr. Kempt, you are in violation of your bond agreement and we are here to take you into the chop shop." I coughed at Lester, "I mean, police station." I nodded in satisfaction, though Kempt didn't look too satisfied.

"Who the hell are you? And what the hell are you doing in my house? Get out! I said get out!" Kempt attempted to stand up, but he tripped or was unbalanced by alcohol, because he ended up falling back onto the sofa.

"Lester Santos," Lester grabbed Kempt by his under arms, and I wondered how he got the courage to do that. He yanked Kempt to his feet, turning him around and slapping cuffs on him. I never would have been able to do that, even now. Plus the ew factor, who knows when the last time Kempt washed.

"Shall we?" Lester pulled a struggling Kempt over towards where I was, and I stepped aside to let them go first. Kempt threw obscenities at me as soon as he looked at me. After 'wily whore' Lester hit him on the head.

"My hand slipped," he grinned. He motioned for me to open the front door, so I did. I locked it and then shut it as soon as we were out. I tried to ignore the badly maintained lawn, but it was hard. Maybe I would make a trip back one day, and just tidy it up a bit, it certainly wouldn't hurt.

"Come on, Bomber. Let's get this trash to the cop station."

"Police, Lester, they call them police." I grinned, I had been teaching him Australian lingo for a while, but he refused to listen.

"Sure, Bomber. Let's go." I saw Kempt sulking in the back of the car, and I almost felt sorry for him again.

"Why do I even bother with you, Santos?"

"Because of my good looks," he grinned, and my heart beat faster. I couldn't think of a good retort so I let out a tch noise and left it at that.

The whole ten minutes to the police station Kempt sulked in the back of the black car, refusing to converse, which suited me just fine. I heard him mumbling under his breath, and was mostly glad I couldn't hear what he was saying. I swear I heard a creak from the steering wheel when Lester gripped it too hard.

"So, we'll cut the check, and there will be no arguments with that Lester," I gave him a Burg glare. "I'll give you it tomorrow arvie. I'm going car shopping!"

&&&

I walked to the car dealer just off of Main Street, and was greeted by Manny, the manager. Don't make a joke of his name, or he is liable to give you a shotty car.

"Lee, havent seen you in a while. What's been keeping?" He gave me a friendly hug, which I was getting used to.

"Sorry, but I havent been blowing up my cars. I hope business was fine without me, though?" He ushered me over to the Ford section, knowing I was going to go there anyway. The Fords tended to catch my eye more then Holden or Mazda, I don't know why.

"I've made do without you. Now, what are we looking for today?"

"The usual. Something shiny and easy to clean." Manny rolled his eyes at me, a very impressionable version of the Burg eye roll. "Probably just something normal."

"With you, it's never normal." He took me to the back of the lot, pointing out random cars, mainly in blues. I shook my head, I had seen them before, some of them I had even test driven. We were all the way to the back of the lot before I saw one I might want. It was a Ford Mustang.

"Ah, so you see the 'Stang. It's a four seater, one of the very few in… I don't know, but there aren't many. It's automatic, and in your price range seeing as it's second hand." I ran my hands over the shiny exterior, "Inside's leather, black. The leather might need a few repairs but we can do that for you for cheap. Six stack CD player in the boot. Plus, the roof comes down," he gave a salesperson grin. I was sold at 'four seater'.

"I'll get it."

&&&

I parked my new car and grabbed my bag from the passengers seat. I looked through the tinted glass of my car to see Dani and Jackie's faces pressed against the window. I laughed and locked the car. They were ogling my new car, which was just fine with me. Heck, I spent half an hour ogling my car before I even got in it!

"Yeah yeah, it's a Mustang. It's beautiful. And it's not going to get blown up anytime soon." I said firmly. Jackie rolled his eyes, and I mentally counted how many times I had said that line. Not as many times as I used to…

"Any files, Dani?" I flopped down into the leather couch, reflecting how it was almost more comfortable then my new Mustang. Mustaaaaang.

"Two. There's Dave, and then a new one. Lemme grab the files," she used her roller chair to push to the filing cabinet, grabbing the two files that were on top. "Here it is. Steven Carmichael. Wanted for… butchering his ex-wives new boyfriend. He survived, and is pressing charges. It sounds nasty."

She pushed the file along the desk to me, and I grabbed it and opened it. Carmichael was thirty six years old, was an orphan, put himself through high school, and a week ago tried to continuously stab Harry Lenthorn for getting with his ex. He was pleading temporary insanity. We all know how this will turn out.

"Great. The only problem is I cant pass this off to Ton." Dani sent me the 'dumb as a doornail' stare, and I looked back at her.

"Gee, Lee, you have the worst memory. Who arrived two days ago?" I nodded, thinking that maybe a doornail was being too kind. "Anyway, Lester has already come and gone, but asked me to give you this."

She gave me a small business card, white with black standard writing. Lester Santos, Rangeman. Someday, I want to get my own business card. Sure I had the ones from E.E Martin, but I want my own.

"Thanks. Hey, where did Jackie go?" I looked around the office, because I could've sworn he was here before. Dani was looking around like I was, clearly confused. We locked eyes and both shrugged at the same time. We laughed it off.

"Anyways, I need lunch. Wanna come?" Dani stood up, grabbing her purse and stuffing money inside it. I smiled and nodded, shifting my bag higher on my shoulder.

"Where are we going, Dan?" She glared at me, I smiled. She hated the nickname 'Dan', but that didn't stop me from calling her it every now and then.

"I don't know, somewhere normal." I looked at her, and she looked sheepish. "Yeah, yeah. I know I just jinxed us." She shook her head, and checked her reflection on the car of my Mustang. Mustaaaaang.

"How about… O'Rielly's? Im craving a banana cream waffle. Plus, there was that cute waiter that was making googly eyes at you." Dani blushed ten shades of red. I took the keys and unlocked my Mustang. Mustaaaaaang. That's not going to get old anytime soon.

"Sounds good." I shook my head, but slid into the leather seats of my Mustang. Mustaa--- yeah, you get the picture.

It took us fifteen minutes in the sixty kilometres/hour along the Esplanade. I had gotten used to the beach being a hundred metres away, but I still loved to hear it at night.

When I fell off the roof and discovered that wasn't the way I was going to fly, my Grandma Mazur took me two hours away to a sea shore far away from Trenton. I figured, I knew how to swim in the public pool, so why would it be any different swimming in the ocean? Boy was I wrong. Five minutes wading in the water, and I fell in love. I didn't get to go to the beach very often, but Grandma Mazur made sure I could still go to Point Pleasant. I will forever substitute any beach with the one I first swam in.

O'Riellys was a pancake place away from the busier part of the Esplanade. It had great service, great seating, and really, really great pancakes. Dani, Jackie and I often visited. So much, that when we said, "Surprise us" when selecting something to eat, the chef made sure we got something we havent tried yet. And that list was getting smaller and smaller.

"Hey Cherie, just us two today," I said to the waitress behind the counter.

"The usual coming right up, Lee. Hey Dani." They waved to each other; while I grabbed a table they started talking. I chose one outside so I could listen to the ocean just over the road and a hundred metres away. I closed my eyes for a few moments, just taking in the sound of chatter, and the smell of sea. It was beautiful.

"Lee." That wasn't beautiful.

"Yes, Chad?" Chad was one of the waiters here, and took every moment possible to annoy me ever since I had first arrived. It was flattering to begin with, he was always commenting on my clothes and hair, but then he just started annoying me. Taking any opportunity to embarrass me. I just didn't bother with him anymore, but I used to try to avoid him.

"I love that top you are wearing. Where did you find it, in your mothers' closet? She must have some fashion sense." I rolled my eyes.

"You've already used that line Chad. Now get lost, I don't have time for you."

"That's why you're at lunch," he stated, glaring at me defiantly. Oh, please.

"None of my time is for you Chad, hasn't ever been."

He huffed, opened his mouth, huffed again, and closed his mouth. Huff the Magic Dragon, he was going red and everything. Though I supposed it was supposed to be Puff, oh well. I smiled.

Dani returned, sitting down next to me and completely ignoring Chad. She made herself as comfortable as she could on the plastic chair facing me, so I turned to her.

"Did you order?"

"Yeah, should be ready soon. I heard that there is going to be a sale at City Beach, are we going?" Dani asked, "I need some new pants, and a new set of togs."

I nodded, "I need to actually buy a pair of swimmers." Chad walked away, and I grinned at Dani.

"Thanks Dani. If I ever hated anyone in Hervey Bay, he would be it… maybe after Clair." We chatted aimlessly for the next hour, and I ended up paying the bill. Oh well, it's not like I don't have the money for it. My bank account is loving me at the moment. It loved me enough to let me buy my 'Stang.

I dropped Dani back at the office at 4:30, and drove home. Before I knew it I was turning the corner to my house, and I saw it. My house, I mean. But there was something different about it, I couldn't put my finger on it. It could be that I should trim the bushes back, or that I needed to wheel the bin back inside… or it could be the fact that STEPH was written across the roof in bright pink.

I parked my car across the road to observe the damage. The lettering was huge, and I wondered how the person managed to paint it in one day. But my stalkers always find a way, I suppose.

"Fuck." I said.