(Thank you to my beta reader, demonchilde.)

MIGHT TAKE A LITTLE CRIME

Jerry took a deep breath and cracked his knuckles. He drew the baseball cap lower on his head, checked that he had his equipment, cast a look around and then got out of his car. It felt good to be active, after a week of suffering a raging inferno inside his head.

Oh, he had spent a considerable amount of time forging the right plan to get rid of Moses and the citation he'd earned by his lapse of judgment. Still, the hurt Sam had visited upon him had consumed him almost entirely. She had no idea of the suffering he'd gone through.

Luckily his pain had been mitigated by the fact that up until this morning, Malone hadn't visited the house even once. He'd gone to the office building every night to check the day's footage. The bastard's absence gave him hope that Sam had seen the error of her ways. Of course, he couldn't know if his beloved was calling the man, but he had to take his victories where he could.

He heard a car cruising down the road behind the car rental offices, and he ducked in between cars. He listened intently before sighing in relief. The vehicle had driven on. He could proceed without a fear of complications.

Jerry sped under the glare of the parking lot lights to the side windows. He took out his gear and jimmied the window open. He heaved himself up and slid through the crack into the premises. He surveyed the parking lot for a while before moving on. It wouldn't do to have someone seeing him and calling the police.

Nothing and nobody moved in the parking lot. With a pleased smile, he walked into the office room and started going through the filing cabinets. He had to find his rental papers.

After having successfully broken and entered into the Chi-car-go offices, Jerry spent the rest of the night casing the street where Moses lived. Some houses had alarm systems just like Moses' home. Other than that, it was just another mundane street of Americana. Picket fences, tidy lawns, two cars and 1.83 rug rats. He curled his lip in disdain.

He estimated that he'd have 'til eight, just two hours, before the street would liven up and he'd have to make himself scarce. He would return to the cheap motel where he'd rented a room under an alias, this time opting to not use a name associated with Sam. He was trying to fly as under the radar as possible.

He'd walked around the perimeter of Moses' house in the dead of night. He'd seen a nice patio door which would be an easy point of entry. He was surprised that a cop wouldn't beef up the security of his own house, but it did make the matter easier on himself. He would only have to kill the alarm.

Jerry crouched lower on the passenger seat when he spied a paper boy on his route, riding a bike in the middle of the road. The paper boy tossed the newspapers with ease and accuracy to the front steps of each house. Until he reached Moses' home. That one the paper boy skipped.

Jerry frowned, puzzled. Why would an elderly beat cop skip his morning paper, on a Sunday, no less? Was it a mistake on the paper boy's part, did the cop subscribe to a different newspaper, or was he out of town? The paper boy rode past Jerry's car without a care in the world. Jerry surmised that there had been no error.

He cursed under his breath. Moses might be out of town, thereby dragging out the end to this misstep. He started the engine and drove on at a crawl, keeping his eye on the left. He'd passed four houses before he found what he'd glanced. "For sale" sign standing on the front yard of a light blue house that had seen better days.

Jerry checked his mask on the rearview mirror, making sure that it didn't stand out too much. He was donning the costume he'd worn the day he'd killed Tom Waters. That had been a spectacular day.

He stood out of the car and strode purposefully to the front door of the light blue house. He greeted the realtor hosting the open house and took the pamphlet offered to him. Pretending to read it, he quickly took in the situation and ascertained that only six other people had shown up. Good. The realtor wouldn't be distracted by too many enquiries. He could ask his questions and leave shortly.

He fed lies of having to move to Chicago for his job and being househunting so that his family could join him there. The oblivious realtor was lapping up his explanations.

Jerry went in for the kill. "Here. My girls," he whipped out his wallet and showed the realtor a photo of Sam and Chloe. The man murmured his admiration.

"The love of my life, and the apple of my eye. Obviously, security is a consideration," he stressed and gave the realtor a meaningful gaze.

"The house comes with an installed alarm system," the man pointed out, looking satisfied.

"Is this a peaceful neighbourhood?"

"You betcha. Not a burglary or a speeding ticket in two years."

"Oh? So there might not be a police car anywhere in the vicinity, should something tragic happen, God forbid," he feigned fretting.

"No, no. A cop lives just down the street, as a matter of fact," the realtor was quick to alleviate his doubts.

"Really? I didn't see a police car parked outside."

"He might be on the job."

Jerry's face conveyed doubt, and the realtor, keen to not lose a lucrative provision, saw the owner of the neighbouring house coming out to walk his dog. The realtor scurried outside to accost the neighbour, and Jerry trailed behind him, revelling in the ease of manipulating the hoi polloi.

The realtor struck up a conversation with the dogwalker, quickly getting to the point. "I seem to recall that one of your neighbours is a policeman. My clients, the Holmes family, made a reference to that fact sometime. "

The dog started barking at Jerry, who stalled in his steps, choosing to remain ten feet away. The owner shushed the dog before replying: "Yes, Patrick is a cop. He lives there, in the dark green house. But he isn't here for the rest of the summer."

"Oh? Is he planning to move away?" the oblivious realtor enquired, much to Jerry's pleasure.

"Nah, he's gone off to Australia. On a family visit."

Jerry's mood darkened when he heard the whereabouts of the cop. He hadn't anticipated that. It would take considerable effort to find out where in Australia Moses was, and even then, the whole thing could blow up in his face. Besides, he couldn't possibly put an ocean between him and Sam. He needed to stay on top of the situation with Malone.

As much as he hated it, he would have to let matters rest for the time being. The silver lining was that if he couldn't get to Moses, neither could the task force. The only thing he could do now was to hack into the CPD internal computer network and get rid of his citation.

He returned to the Holmes residence and spent another five minutes there before making his exit. A long car ride back to Atlanta awaited. He would have two days' worth of surveillance footage to go over.