Chapter Nine

"I was starting to wonder when you'd call. Mac said he told you that you could call at 10:30; it's almost quarter to eleven." Jim sat in his wheelchair, next to the phone where many of the policemen would write their reports.

"Sorry," Pete, who was back at his parents house and sitting on the edge of the bed, apologized. "After dinner, I took Mandi home and wound up talking to Andrew for a bit longer than I planned."

Jim was curious and didn't hesitate to start questioning Pete. "Mandi? Andrew? I thought you got yourself put back to work. What are you talking about?"

"I did-kind of." Pete explained everything from the beginning, leaving out the dinner bit. "Did you find anything out?"

"Yes, but what is this about a date?" Jim asked, even as he picked up the paper he'd written on earlier.

Pete wasn't surprised Jim was asking about the date before he answered Pete's question. "Her name is Amanda, but her nickname is Mandi to some people. She's an employee who works for Andrew and his wife. She's worked for them for nine years-closing in on ten, and she is a part time dispatcher here. There's more only I'm tired and just wanted to see what you found out," Pete told Jim, and then said, "So… what did you find?"

Jim would have rather questioned Pete more about his date, only he could hear the tiredness in Pete's voice. Besides, he needed to head home soon himself. He looked at the paper he'd written on. "You were right. Phillip Perkins is from Arizona, one of his cousins is named Caleb Burns and he-meaning Phillip Perkins – was released from prison two months ago and the address his parole officer has is here in Los Angeles."

"That's when the sheriff here says small items began disappearing around here." Pete yawned and then continued talking. "Nothing major mind you only still enough that he's been trying to catch whoever is doing it. Caleb Burns has been a suspect for a long time only, no one could tie him to the petty crimes, nor could they connect him to anyone he might be dealing with until now. Though, if he's helping his cousin, there has to be another party. I mean, it's not like Los Angeles sits on the California and Arizona border. From what the sheriff here says when Caleb leaves town he isn't gone long enough to travel that far."

"I'll talk to Perkin's parole officer first chance I get, see if he has any ideas. By the time we get through, we may have at least one US Marshal in on this one." Jim said.

"Let's hope something gives before it goes that far." Pete then gave Jim Sheriff Lawson's phone number. "Give him call tomorrow, okay? I'm not going to be available until later tomorrow afternoon."

"Going to see this Amanda, or Mandi as you call her, again?" Jim was smiling as he asked the question.

Pete didn't have to be in the same room as Jim to know what his partner was doing. "Maybe, she works there and- as I said- I've been helping out on the ranch-as a way to help the sheriff keep an eye on the place without letting Andrew knowing that's what I'm doing." Pete paused and then asked Jim not to say anything to anyone. That is when it came to his date. "As I said, there's more only I'm tired. For now, unless it goes past friendship in a short time, let's not get talk going at the station. People around here will be talking as it is; I'm sure of that." Pete chuckled silently as he once again thought about the look on the waitress's face when he'd referred to Amanda by her nickname.

Jim saw no problem in granting that request. After all, the woman was in Arizona, and Pete would be coming back to Los Angeles sooner or later. So, unless-like Pete said- it went somewhere fast-there was no need to speculate and talk. "Fine," Jim agreed, and then bade his partner goodnight.

~oOo~

Six in the morning came early and a part of Pete wished he hadn't woke up. Only, he had and there was no going back to sleep. After showering and dressing, Pete made his way to his parents' kitchen. Since it was almost seven, he was surprised to see his father just sitting down at the kitchen table. There was food on the table and a pot full of coffee. That is, until he realized he was a day off, and it was Saturday. Though his mother was no where to be seen.

"Your mother is still sleeping." Mr. Malloy figured he knew what Pete was thinking when his son had looked around the room. "Saturday is her one day she takes that luxury. I cooked the meal, and don't be shocked about that. I do it once in awhile." Mr. Malloy laughed, "Just not very often, and I won't poison you." He then surprised his son when he asked, "Did you sleep better?"

Pete's didn't answer at first. He had thought that, since his parents had never said anything, that the rooms were insulated rather well. Now, he wondered, and his face showed his confusion. "Have I made that much noise?"

"Not enough to wake your mother; she sleeps like a log." Mr. Malloy said as he handed his son the coffee pot. "Only, yes, I have heard you a time or two. Almost knocked on your door, only you'd settle down before I could. Want to talk about it?"

Pete sighed. His father had always been a good listener. However, he didn't want to go through the whole story. Still… "We had a rookie killed unnecessarily, and Jim is working the front desk and answering a phone until his legs heal; they were both broken."

"Ouch." Mr. Malloy, who had drank some of his coffee, asked how long Pete was staying. "I mean, you didn't say you'd quit your job. You haven't, have you?"

"No," Pete sighed. "I just had some vacation time coming and took it. Unless you're going to say I need to leave, I plan on staying around for a few more days at least, if not for my whole vacation."

"That the sheriff's doing or Amanda Butler's?" An amused look danced in Mr. Malloy's eyes as he asked the question.

"You read me too well." Pete laughed, and then grew serious. "What if I said it was a bit of both?"

Mr. Malloy chuckled. "I'd say it's your business….and to watch out for your mother. Only, I didn't say that."

Pete couldn't help it. He started laughing, something his father was quick to do as well. Though, Pete didn't have to worry about watching out for his mother that morning-as he'd already left the house by the time Mrs. Malloy woke up.