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Up until now all Harper had was circumstantial evidence against McCormick. He could take him into custody and hold him 72 hours for questioning, but he could see now how useful that would be. About this time his cell phone rang, "Lt. Harper."

"This is Agent John Mason. Checking the surveillance cameras in the neighborhood I was able to make a positive ID on the car used at the Fredrick Street break in. It seems it comes back to a Mark McCormick of Malibu. I'll be getting the warrant when I hang up. I believe he is a friend of your's house guest. Are you familiar with Mr. McCormick? He's a parolee with a record of liking other people's cars."

McCormick had uncharacteristically walked away from Frank and couldn't hear the conversation as he propped up on the hood of the Coyote.

"Yes, I can meet you downtown with that in an hour." Frank hung up the phone and walked over to McCormick. "Why?"

"What?" McCormick wasn't expecting this line of questions.

"That man standing inside that window has trusted, believed in, supported, and cared about you. How could you let him down like this?" Frank asked.

McCormick stated neither confirming or denying any charges, "You wouldn't understand. I'm not sure I do."

Frank began, "As we speak, a warrant for your arrest is being issued. I came out here to question you, but it seems the agent that you embarrassed has pictures of your car in the neighborhood of a B & E of a Federal building and with your history, well," He took the cuffs from their holder on his belt, reached a little rougher than he had planned to for Mark's wrist, placed the first cuff on Mark's wrist none too gently. He then put Mark against the car and proceeded to cuff his second wrist with his sore hand behind his back. He felt McCormick flinch and to late remembered his wounded hand. Frank then reached for his Miranda card, "Mark McCormick, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you can not afford an attorney one will be provided to you. Do you understand these rights?"

Mark sighed, "Yes."

Frank asked, already knowing the answer, "Do you want an attorney present during questioning?"

Mark replied, "Yes."

Frank opened the back door and assisted McCormick into the car.

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Once the door of the car closed the bats, not butterflies, broke free and had full rein of McCormick's stomach. Other than when he stole the Coyote back for Barbara and when Teddy had robbed Judge Gault's poker game, this had been the only time since getting out of Quentin that Mark had actually been arrested. It was not a feeling he enjoyed but this time was different. He knew he would be charged under Federal law. He was sure that if Hardcastle didn't do something quick that Mr. Dalem would see that his parole was revoked. Even though Hardcastle was officially responsible, Dalem was still the PO of record. The only question Mark could see right now was who wanted him more the Feds or the State of California. Either way he wasn't sure that even Hardcastle could pull anything off. The ride to police headquarters with his sore hand behind him had not helped McCormick's hand. It felt more swollen now than it had earlier, but didn't feel like it had started bleeding again.

Harper parked the car in his usual spot, opened the back door of the sedan and helped McCormick out. Even without a sore hand, getting out of a backseat of a car with your hands cuffed behind you isn't easy.

As McCormick got out of the sedan, he saw the building he'd been in more in the last year than he'd ever thought possible with Harcastle, but what bothered him about the building where Frank's office was located is that it is adjacent to the Inmate Reception Center where he figured he'd end up spending at least his weekend. He did not look forward to this, even if by some miracle Hardcastle could do something. Might as well go in expecting the worse. A Federal wrap for B&E and of course the parole violation. Rough guess twenty years, maybe ten if I'm really lucky.

Frank Harper saw the young man tense even more than he was already. He understood from Hardcastle that each time he brought McCormick with him to Harper's office the kid had tried to find any excuse to wait outside. Under normal circumstances, Harper may have tried to ease the kids mind. But, these were not normal circumstances and, knowing that Milt was likely going through his own hell, Harper found just a bit of satisfaction at McCormick's uneasiness. He had hoped he was wrong when he read the report of the break in, but with McCormick not giving him any answers to his questions, the wounded hand and the fact the Coyote was seen in the neighborhood, Harper had little choice but to believe that he had broke into to the building. With McCormick shut down he would have to talk to Milt. There had to be more to this thing than met the eye, but he was sure that Milt would have told him something about the case if they had been working on something, which Milt had denied. Harper cleared his throat and said, "Let's go."

McCormick went into automatic pilot as he began to walk just in front of Lt. Harper.

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In Hardcastle's den he could see McCormick setting on the hood of the Coyote and Frank talking on his cell phone. Then, there was a brief conversation between the two before Harper cuffed McCormick and read him his rights.

"Dammit." Hardcastle swore, though he wasn't surprised with the events. He had been a cop too many years to expect Frank not to take McCormick in for questioning. He cleared his throat and wiped his eye, as the sedan disappeared down the drive. "I got to get Teddy over here, then get down to the station while they questioned McCormick. Hardcastle knew he would be no more popular with the Feds than he was with Frank. If McCormick could buy him sometime without incriminating himself, Hardcastle just might have a plan.

Hardcastle went to the phone on the desk, "Teddy?"

"Hardcase?" Teddy asked, just a bit surprised to hear the judge instead of Skid.

"Castle. Hardcastle, Teddy." Hardcastle grumbled. He wasn't in the best of moods.

Hearing the judge's tone, Teddy knew this wasn't a social event. "Oh, yeah, sorry about that Judge."

"Look Teddy, we need to talk. Hop a cab and get over here pronto if not sooner." Hardcastle all but ordered.

"Uuu-mmm, yeah, okay, sure thing Judge. Something wrong?" Teddy asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Being vague due to being on the phone and not wanting to scare his information off, "It's nothing that I can't fix with your help. I think." Hardcastle said.

"Judge, this wouldn't have anything to do with Skid would it?" Teddy asked.

"Just get over here where we can talk, Teddy." Hardcastle insisted. "Cab's on me, just hurry it up."

"Thanks Judge. I'll be right over." Teddy replied. He hoped he wasn't walking in on a one way trip ticket back to prison.

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Still handcuffed, McCormick got in the elevator with Frank behind him. The floor Frank pushed wasn't his office floor, but the floor where the interview rooms were. Dammit. Can't get a break. McCormick thought. He knew this was only one step away from 'receiving'.

Harper stopped at the desk, showed his ID and was told by the secretary, "Room 10."

Frank nodded and told McCormick, "Fifth door on the right."

McCormick heard the hushed whispers as he walked toward the interview room. He could imagine the now flowing gossip that he and Hardcastle were the topic of. He stopped in front of the door indicated by Lt. Harper.

Harper reacher around him and opened the door.

Mark saw the two men in expensive suits that had FBI written all over them. He also saw they had the tape recorder set up and ready. This was going to be a long evening.

Harper closed the door behind him, "Have a seat McCormick."

Mark found his voice before complying, "Lt. this is going to be a really long night. Could you take these cuffs off? You don't need them."

McCormick saw the unasked question between Harper and the FBI agents, who gave a look of indifference. Harper stepped to take off the cuffs.

McCormick said, "Thanks Lt." as he took a seat at the table.

Agent Mason asked, "Have you read Mr. McCormick his rights?"

Harper advised, "Yes, I have."

Agent Mason asked, "Is that correct, Mr. McCormick?"

"Yes." McCormick answered. Short answers were better at a time like this.

"Did you understand your rights? Or do you have any questions." Mason asked.

Mark replied, "I understand them. No, I don't have any questions."

Agent Mason began, "Good. Mr. McCormick I am Agent Mason, the Chief of Security of a warehouse over on Fredrick Street that was broke into last night or early this morning. As you can imagine it was quiet embarrassing for me as the Chief of Security this morning. Whomever made this security breach was good at what they do. However, I can place your car, which seems to be very unique, in the neighborhood early this morning. Would you care to explain why you were in that neighborhood in the wee hours of the morning?"

"Agent Mason I'd rather not answer any questions without consulting with my attorey." McCormick answered, trying keep the proceeding civil.

"I see." Agent Mason said, "Do you have counsel?"

"Yes, Sir." McCormick answered.

Agent Mason asked, "Do you need to call him?"

"No, Sir. He should be here any minute now." McCormick said calmly.

Agent Mason looked a bit surprised, but said only, "I see. Well, in that case, " he reached to turn off the tape. "We'll get started once he arrives." The agents stood up and left the room.

McCormick was messing with the bandage on his hand.

Harper had been setting on the corner of the table watching the matter unfold. "Milt should be getting here anytime. Are you sure that hand is okay?"

"Yeah, it's just gonna be sore for awhile." McCormick answered without disclosing what had happened to him.

Harper nodded. Walked out the door. The click that followed told McCormick that the door was locked. He set back and studied the room which was nothing to look at. A twelve by twelve, maybe, with all white walls, other than the locked door, there were three small barred windows that were maybe six by thirty inches. The only furnishings were the table, four chairs and the recorder. Alone, McCormick tried to work his hand. He could tell it was swollen more now than it had been earlier. He couldn't make a fist with it now.

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