The Aftermath

12

Tuesday 11:00AM

Charlie called Tom's phone, "Sorry Tom, but Jim Stewart doesn't own a truck, and I found out through a friend on the force that the truck they found, which fit your description, was stolen that morning."

"It was worth a shot." Tom said with a shrug.

"We do have the restraining order. I filed for it today. Jim Stewart is the one that threw the bible at you, the one that split your brow open. So it was fairly easy to file. Of course they still have to serve the papers to him and the police are trying to find him with no luck."

Tom sighed, "I really believe this guy is a threat. I'm also hoping he's the one who took a shot at me yesterday. If he isn't, then I have two people to worry about."

"Got any friends at the casino who might give you a look at the tapes for yesterday? They got enough cameras, they could probably follow him all the way out to his car. At least then you would know if he was the one in the truck." Charlie suggested.

"Good idea, thanks, I'll look into that." Tom agreed.

"Sorry I couldn't be more help." Charlie told him.

"No worries. That idea about the casino might be workable. I'll check later tonight." Tom told her.

After he hung up he called Teri and told her their family decision.

"Great! When can I come over?" She asked.

"How about at three o'clock? Angie will be home by then, and you can have a shot at all of us." Tom suggested.

"Perfect. See you then." Teri said, "Oh! Did you read the paper this morning?"

"No, not yet." Tom admitted.

"I got front page with that story, and the pictures I took. I owe you a big one. That was a healthy pay check. It got syndicated within an hour. LA Times and twelve other papers all took it for a front page story."

"Everyone loves a drama." Tom muttered.

"You got that right. Drama sells. Sex sells better, but drama is a close second." Teri agreed.

"See you at three." Tom said.

There were always things to do in a house: hinges, light bulbs, faucets, garage doors, rafters, fans, vents, carpets etc. It never stops. Anyone with a home knows this. There is always something to do. Tom spent most of his morning doing things that needed to be done, and feeling good about having the time. For the first time in his life he had time on his hands, enough money not to worry about it, and a home. The combination was centering. So he focused on his house and bringing it back into shape.

Samantha came home from shopping to find Tom in the garage with the washer and dryer pulled out from the wall.

"What. Are. You. Doing?"

"Lint trap." Tom said, "Cleaning it out."

"Is that all you are doing?" She asked, "That set is almost new."

"They are five years old." Tom complained.

"That's right, almost new. They don't need tinkering." She told him.

Tom put down the broom and helped her carry in groceries.

"What else have you been up to?" she asked warily.

"Stuff." He said.

"What stuff?

"I fixed the light in the guest bathroom." He told her.

"And?"

"I fixed a couple of dings in the walls."

"And?"

"I put rose petals on the bed for our nooner."

"And would those rose petals have come from my rose garden?" she asked.

"Those were the best roses I could find." He admitted.

"Silver tongue devil you." She smiled, "How many cups of coffee have you had?"

"Two pots. How many is that?" He asked.

"Enough." She told him. "Drink beer like other men who are laid off, and go watch the sports channel or something. Leave my washer and dryer alone."