Date: Wed, 19 Oct 2005 04:34:46 -0700 (PDT) From: Farrell Mc Nulty Subject: Detectives Log - Chapter Twenty-Four - Revenge of the Wretched Rogue CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - Revenge of the Wretched Rogue After leavin' the hospital, we head over to the office and start cleanin' stuff outta there, thinkin' it'd be a lot easier when my lease is up on the joint, so I can just book at the end, sayin', "nice doin' business with ya, pal, but I gotta mosey on out". Anyways, me and Eddie ain't even payin' attention to the door or nothin', cuz it's locked and all that, but somethin' crashes through the window and Eddie's standin' closest to it and just leaps forward like a stuntman. Then, I notice a figure whip out an AK-47 and start loadin' it. I scream at Eddie, "behind the desk, NOW!" The two of us duck and you talk about SHOTS FIRED. I had the desk bulletproofed so I knew we'd be okay - just got the shit scared out of us. The shooting stops and the figure goes away. Me and Eddie get back up and take in everything that just happened, "holy Battle of Normandy, what the heck was that?" "I wish I knew". I look around to see what kinda damage was done to the place and there was none. With all-a them bullets goin' everywhere, you'd think at least the window would be busted, the blinds torn up, but there was nothin'. Not even a mark on the bulletproof desk. Sure, the smell of gunpowder, but nothin' else. "Leapin' Lord almighty, this one was shootin' blanks." Eddie pounds his hand into his fist, "another sick prank, what's the pattern here?" Then he happens to see something lyin' on the floor. It was a rock with a note attached, the thing that went through the door. "Holy molotov cocktail", he mutters as he picks it up. He opens the note and its contents made his eyes open wide. "Watch out, Batz, it won't be blanks next time." That spooked me, whoever this was knows me, where I work, probably live. "Ya think it's the same one at the mailbox?" "I would hope so. I'd hate to think there was a copycat. That'd be two psychos we're up against. We gotta get handwritin' analyzed on this too." "Yeah, good thing you're closing up shop here. They won't be able to get ya here. We can get a good jump on them." "Hopefully, kid", I say as I put my arm around him, "hopefully".