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Gary Hobson moaned as the alarm bleeped loudly in his ear. It couldn't be 6:30 already. Could it? Reaching out a warm hand into the chilly morning air, he blindly slapped at the annoying little box until the incessant noise stopped. Pulling the pillow up over his head, he tried to return to that comfortable place of sleep and warmth he'd been enjoying just minutes earlier. That was not to be, however, for at that moment he heard it -- the unmistakable and all too familiar thump and call outside his door heralding the end of his peaceful slumber and the beginning of yet another seemingly endless existence of saving the world.
Giving in to the inevitable, he threw back the covers and rubbed at his eyes. Glancing out the window, he could see the city cloaked in a bright new layer of snow with yet more falling. Groaning, Gary rolled out of bed and stepped onto the cold, bare floor.
He stumbled through the room as the cry grew more insistent. "Hold on. I'm comin'," he muttered, pulling open the door. His yellow and orange paperboy tabby cat sat peering innocently up at him from his perch upon the paper. As Gary bent down to pick up his very own unique copy of the Chicago Sun-Times, the cat, who even after three years remained nameless, wound himself in between and through Gary's legs. Closing the door, Gary made his way to the kitchen.
"You couldn't deliver a little late one day, could ya?" he asked his furry friend as he set the paper on the counter and turned to the fridge. He automatically took out a carton of milk. "You know let me sleep in for once." Not getting an answer, he filled the cat's bowl and poured himself a glass.
Uncharacteristically ignoring the milk, the feline leapt up and padded to the paper. Standing on it, he meowed loudly. Gary just shrugged his shoulders and busied himself with starting the coffee, intending to at least enjoy a somewhat leisurely breakfast while he perused the news to find out what his day would consist of. Ever since he'd started getting tomorrow's paper a day early, his life had been filled with running around from one disaster to the next, changing bad stories into good. Though reluctantly accepted, he took it quite seriously, but just once he'd like some time off -- twenty-four hours where nothing cataclysmic happened, and he could do with it what he wanted. Maybe today would be that day, he thought hopefully.
As if reading his mind, the tabby mewed more incessantly and began to claw at the Times as if he were trying to find something. Intrigued by the odd behavior, Gary snapped out of his reverie.
"What is it?" he asked, tucking his companion under his arm with one hand while picking up the paper with his other. Spotting the headline, Gary sank down into a chair and began reading.
"AIRPORT BOMBING KILLS 10, INJURES DOZENS MORE. A little after eight yesterday morning, a bomb exploded as it came down the south terminal carousel at O'Hare International Airport. Dozens of passengers stood waiting for their luggage when the explosion ripped through baggage claim, killing ten and injuring dozens more. Airport officials speculate the device was placed on the carousel locally. There are no suspects at this time, but security has been increased..."
Gary scanned the rest of the not-very-informative article for any details. He glanced at the clock on the wall -- 6:50. That left him with a little more than an hour to get to the airport.
"So much for a quiet day," he grumbled. Downing the rest of his milk, he swung into action.
* * *
"What's takin' so long?" Skip Carmichael griped. He checked his watch, again -- 7:55. "It never takes this long."
Melanie Carmichael smiled patiently at her husband's uncharacteristic grouchiness. It had been a long day, and they were both exhausted. "It hasn't been that long, Skip. Relax." She nudged him playfully, trying to get him out of his mood.
"Guess you're right," he admitted grudgingly. "I just wanna get to that hotel and get some sleep. All night in the St. Louis airport is not my idea of fun."
"But we're here now, and we haven't seen Lee and Amanda in ages," Mel reminded. "This'll be great."
"It has been awhile," he agreed, finally nudging her back. "But remind me again why we're in Chicago in the dead of winter instead of some place warm like Hawaii. I live in sunny California for a reason." Skip sighed his best long-suffering sigh, trying to hide the smile threatening to reveal that his humor had returned.
Mel couldn't help but laugh at his sorrowful expression.
"I can't believe we paid money for that," Skip continued, dramatically shivering at the white flakes steadily streaming down, clearly visible through the automatic doors. "And no skiing for a billion miles"
"We're here because Sherry's sister is getting married here this weekend," she lectured him, knowing he was fully aware of the reason but also aware he needed to vent the travel's frustrations. "Sarah spent so much time at the ranch while getting her masters, she wanted to include all of us at her wedding. She's family, and we're only here for one day look," Mel announced cheerfully when she spotted the first piece of luggage crest the top and slide down the chute. "It won't be" She stopped when a loud commotion emanating from behind the wall caught her attention.
"Mel, you see that?" the ex-astronaut cried in amazement, pointing in disbelief.
Mel craned her neck to watch a guy fall head first down the ramp surrounded by suitcases. The man hit the side wall and rolled off the conveyer. Their eyes met briefly, and Mel noted the relief plainly visible before he spun around and hobbled out the exit, quickly disappearing into the whiteness outside.
"Uh," Skip started. "Uh, did that just happen?"
Mel frowned after the stranger. That was different. She turned to watch a large security force dash past the startled, ex-passengers into an employee's only door.
Skip shook his head. "I thought these things only happened in LA big cities, I guess," he remarked. "Finally!" he exclaimed, spotting their bags. Happy at last, he reached to collect them, all thoughts of the earlier scene gone from his mind.
Mel hesitated. Something had obviously just happened. "Shouldn't we talk to someone?" she asked her husband.
"Oh, uh" Skip stared at the guards and police streaming by. "They don't seem to think we're important." He nodded after the last officer.
"I guess you're right," she reluctantly agreed, still wondering what the stranger had to do with whatever was going on behind the scenes.
"C'mon," Skip urged, tugging at her sleeve.
Mel let him lead her out the door to hail the cab, her mind still dwelling on the odd events that had just occurred.
* * *
Marissa inclined her head towards the door, her fingertips paused from reading the Braille inventory reports. Though blind, she knew Gary's walk and could hear the limp in it as her partner came in. "Long morning?" she quizzed.
"You might say that," he responded glumly, plopping down on the barstool next to her.
Marissa frowned. She was also very good at reading his moods. "What happened?"
"Oh, not much Just spent the morning scrambling after a bomb." Gary rubbed absently at his leg. "Don't let anyone tell you riding a conveyor belt is fun."
"What?!"
"I went to the airport to stop a bombing." Pouring himself coffee, Gary tried to summarize his day to date. "Course no one would listen so I found an unsecured door and made it down to where the paper thought the bomb was planted. I finally saw some guy shove a package in with the rest of the luggage."
"What did you do?"
"I yelled for him to stop," Gary admitted reluctantly. "Which got security's attention and I guess it appeared like he didn't belong more than I didn't. I pointed out the bomb and they musta disarmed it."
Marissa shook her head, confused. "Gary -- the luggage carousel?"
Gary suddenly became very interested in his coffee. "Oh that," he began, embarrassed. "While the guards were dealing with the bomb, the guy who left it used the confusion to escape. I managed to push him into a luggage locker then I lost my balance and fell backward onto the belt. Next thing I knew, I was sliding down with the rest of the suitcases. And I hit hard"
Marissa repressed a laugh. "You've had quite a morning. What else is in the paper?"
"I don't know." He sighed deeply at the disapproving glare Marissa threw his way. "I haven't had time to check, okay?" Gary defended himself, grudgingly pulling the paper out to examine it. Almost immediately, a new headline caught his eye. "Oh no," he breathed. Jumping up, he grabbed his jacket.
"Gary! What? What is it?" Marissa exclaimed.
"I... I gotta go, Marissa. I've gotta get to the bank."
"Good luck!" Marissa called after his retreating steps.
* * *
Lee Stetson looked at his wife beside him. She held tightly to the end of her scarf with her face away from him, trying in vain to avoid the chilly Chicago wind that never appeared to cease. He frowned as he checked his watch again, sure this had to be taking a lot longer than the ten minute walk the desk clerk had promised. "I'm sorry, Amanda. I should have done this before we left DC," he apologized for the fifth time -- loudly -- to be heard over the whistling gusts.
She turned and smiled. "Lee, we were both busy." Amanda reached out her free gloved hand to grab his, but he ignored it. Instead, he snaked an arm around her waist and drew her closer as they continued down the street.
Beside getting out of the cold, he had a few other ideas about what they should be doing before they had to meet the others. "Let's get this over with and get back to the hotel. You know, the one with the nice, warm bed we can thaw out in," he began. "So we won't catch pneumonia before the wedding of course," he added suggestively.
"Of course," Amanda agreed laughing. "And we're here," she stated, a hint of promise in her voice.
Lee grinned at their destination, then a gray expression clouded his face as he saw the long line through the window. He sighed. "In and out," he declared. Holding the door open for his wife, he leaned in for a quick kiss, but it was cut short, and he had to pull back as a stranger pushed between them. "Hey," he called.
The man stopped, opening his mouth to say something but then stared at the paper he carried and continued into the bank without a word to the Stetsons.
"How rude," Amanda commented, wiping her feet on the already soaked welcome mat.
Disturbed by what he'd seen in the stranger's glance, Lee automatically reached for his gun, uneasy at its uncharacteristic absence. "Something's wrong," he quietly told his wife, noting Amanda's instincts immediately focused on the situation.
"Do you think he's here to rob the bank?" Amanda strained to keep him in full sight through the patrons.
Lee silently studied him -- and the reactions to his line-cutting. He didn't think anyone was about to challenge the guy, but the looks he drew would have given pause to any sane person.
The stranger finally stopped next to one of the customers, engaging him in conversation -- which worried Lee even more. This new guy looked spooked, especially at his companion's appearance. Sweat beaded on his forehead in the coolness even the central heat of the bank couldn't dispel completely -- and his eyes searched furtively through the crowd, at first ignoring the line-cutter and then obviously confused by him.
"Should we do something?" Amanda asked, clutching her purse, ready to use it in defense of the bank's clientele.
"Give it a minute," Lee advised. "See what happens."
Amanda agreed, getting into line while Lee hung off to her side a for a better view of the situation.
* * *
Oblivious to the glares of the other customers at his cutting into the line, Gary argued with the man just two people away from a teller. "C'mon Sam, you don't wanna do this. Think about your family. How's goin' to jail gonna help 'em?"
Sam seemed to be listening but made no move to back down.
"Listen, I know you're out of work, but there are better ways," Gary pleaded.
"Oh, yeah and just what are they?" Sam snapped, reflexively glancing to whatever he held concealed in his pocket.
Gary thought frantically. "There are programs. If you walk outta this bank now, you can get help. But if you don't, Sam, if you go through with this, your family'll well, they'll be worse off. Think about your baby. What's Tiffany gonna do without you?"
"How did you know?" Sam asked defensively. He again scanned the bank's occupants, trying to figure out who had tipped this guy off, but he finally appeared to be listening.
Gary struggled for an answer. "It It doesn't matter how I know. The important thing is she needs you. What do you say? You gonna leave and get help? Or are you gonna spend the most precious years of your daughter's life in jail?"
Time stood still as the robber assessed Gary's words. Finally, he scrutinized him thoroughly. Gary held his breath until Sam nodded once. Carefully removing the gun from his jacket, he slipped it to Gary without anyone else seeing what it was. With a sigh of relief, Gary led the man out of the bank, almost pausing to say something to the man and woman he'd bowled past so rudely. Gary met the man's eyes for the briefest of seconds, startled by the total awareness of what was going on he saw there then he hurried past the couple with the former bank robber in tow.
Amanda turned to Lee. "Did we just see a robbery stopped?"
For a moment, Lee watched the two as they walked out, then he met Amanda's worried expression. "I don't know, but the one in line passed our man a gun just before they left." His brow furled in confusion. "That's the oddest bank robbery scenario I've ever seen. Maybe we should follow them," he suggested distractedly. "Maybe they're supposed to be at a different bank?"
"It's too late, Lee," Amanda informed him. "I lost track when they crossed the street. The snow's too heavy to see that far. Should we talk to the bank manager?"
"And say what? 'Hi, we didn't see a robbery? Want the details?'" Lee sighed. "No, it was probably nothing anyway, just a disagreement between friends."
Seeing their turn had come up, he put his hand on the small of her back and started her towards the window. "C'mon, let's get this over and begin our sight seeing -- you know, the sights we can see in our hotel room," he suggested with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
Amanda grinned back, taking her place at the teller's window, but Lee couldn't help but take one last look over his shoulder at the spot where the would-be robbers had disappeared. That certainly could win out for odd event of the day
* * *
Gary walked out of the unemployment office where he'd left Sam and pulled out his edition of the Sun Times. It was only 10:30, and he'd already had a long day. Flipping through the pages, he groaned inwardly at the replaced headline.
"TOURISTS PLUMMET TO THEIR DEATH IN SEARS TOWER ELEVATOR. A vacationing couple was killed yesterday morning when the cable supporting the express elevator to the observation deck snapped. The car fell twenty stories to the ground floor, killing them instantly. The incident happened at 11:05..."
Folding the paper, Gary tucked it in the back of his pants and began to run in the direction of the popular tourist attraction.
* * *
"Caitlin, can't we do this tomorrow?" Andy Travis asked as his wife dragged him into the lobby of the Sears Tower. "We won't see anything. It's snowin' too hard!"
"C'mon Andy, we can't come to Chicago and not go to the top of the tallest building here and you know our flight leaves at dawn. Besides, we told the kids we'd do this since they couldn't come pictures and souvenirs."
"The word is bribes," the rancher corrected.
"Whatever you want to call it, we promised" Cait returned.
"Okay, okay, you win," Andy acquiesced with a laugh. "Let's go." He pulled her closer, holding her hand tightly and relinquished it only long enough to complete his transaction at the ticket window. Tickets in hand, they strolled arm-in-arm to the bench beside the elevator to wait for the next express car to take them to the top.
A commotion at the building entrance drew their attention when several patrons had to jump out of the way of a man who brushed past them at almost a full run.
"I wonder what his hurry is?" Cait commented at the sight.
"I don't know, but it seems important." Andy shrugged after watching for a moment then returned his gaze to his wife and smiled. "You know the kids are home and we rarely get the chance to be alone" He kissed his wife to emphasize his words, immediately forgetting about the stranger and his problems.
* * *
Gary raced up to the ticket booth. "There's a problem with the elevator. You need to shut it down," he gasped out, trying to catch his breath.
"Excuse me?" the lady questioned. "Who are you?"
"Uh, I'm from building maintenance," Gary bluffed. It had taken years, but he'd finally learned to get around some situations. "You have to shut down the elevators until we get 'em inspected."
She was obviously not buying his story so he tried a different tact. "Look, just call and get someone down here. One of those cables is gonna break. You wanna chance that?"
Noting the intensity of his plea, she started to take him seriously. "You really think there's a problem?"
"Oh yes, ma'am." Gary nodded. "I'm sure of it."
"Okay, I'll have someone check it out."
But Gary was gone before she completed her sentence. The ring of the arriving elevator drew him immediately to the car and the couple who'd waited so patiently for the passengers to depart to take their turn. Gary flew for the elevator and threw his body between the closing doors, a hmph escaped his lips as they tried to shut and continue on their way.
"Ya gotta get out of here," Gary began, a quick ugh escaped his lips as the doors tried to come together one more time. "This isn't safe." He reached for the woman's arm to pull her out but found the man instead -- glaring daggers at him.
"Look, mister, whatever your game is, leave my wife and me alone," he threatened.
"The-elevator's-not safe," Gary enunciated each word carefully between the doors thudding his mid-section unmercifully. "Please-get-off-now," Gary hissed through gritted teeth, making one last attempt to grab for the woman.
Unable to dodge the punch he saw coming too late, Gary crumpled to the ground -- with the elevator doors still bouncing off his body, effectively stopping any ascent to the viewing tower the car might have made -- and preventing the cables from snapping with the strain of that one final load.
Vaguely aware of this, Gary sighed with relief as the blackness claimed him.
* * *
Sherry Michaels wandered through the small boutique. "I can't believe we left Sarah's card on the counter," Sherry stated in frustration.
"I'm sorry, Hon," Murphy replied, gazing out the window as the flurries intensified once again. He'd long since given up suggesting cards to his wife. He secretly suspected the psychologist in her analyzed ever aspect of the card -- and recipient -- to make sure they would be the perfect match. His idea of a perfect card meant no one would be offended by it -- and it had the appropriate happy or best wishes sentiment included in the message. "I really thought I had it." He turned to look at his wife, shrugging apologetically. "Remembered the gift though," he added, grinning.
Sherry smiled at her husband. "I'm just glad we realized it now instead of an hour before the wedding." She continued to sort through the various wedding cards. "At least we're getting the traditional reunion disaster over with early," she suggested playfully.
"Yeah, " Murphy began, but his attention diverted outside to a strange man frantically yanking a woman out of the crosswalk.
At first she seemed to be trying to brush him away so she could re-enter the intersection, but the guy was insistent. Unsure of what the situation was, Murphy started towards the door to see if he could help, but before he'd gotten more than a foot away, the situation became a tug-of-war between the two. He returned to the window when he saw the combatants stop their bickering suddenly and cling to each other as they hit a patch of ice. Twisting and flaying to keep their balance, they slid towards Murphy -- and the window -- at a high speed, free arms waving frantically for any handhold. A quiet thunk indicated their final arrival.
Murphy could see the woman's confusion and noted the huge shiner on the guy's right eye. The two glared at each other for a second then whipped their heads around as a large Chicago Transit bus fishtailed through the crosswalk where they'd been moments before. It sailed across the curb then crashed into several cars nearby before coming to a stop. The woman stared at the man for a second, pulled him in for a long, deep kiss, then breezed off down the street.
The man's eyes were wide in surprise and a silly grin played on his lips, but both he and the smile disappeared abruptly when he noticed Murphy gawking at him and realized he had an audience.
Murphy shook his head to clear it, confused by what he'd just seen. It had to be a coincidence -- the seeming rescue. And if the bus driver had had to swerve to avoid them, Murphy was positive the boutique he and Sherry were in would have been in the path. But then, that pretty much was the definition of coincidence
"Sherry! Did you see that?" he exclaimed excitedly, finally finding his voice.
Still involved with the cards, Sherry never heard her husband. "What, Murph? Did you say something?" She glanced at him.
He shook his head. "Not really." No need to tell her the reunion-disaster diverted was a little bigger than a missing card.
"I've found the perfect one," she declared, clutching her prize as she made her way to the cashier.
* * *
Safely down the street and away from that man studying him in the window, Gary checked to make sure the expected change had occurred to the story.
It no longer read:
"TWO KILLED, SIX INJURED IN BUS TRAGEDY. Two tourists from Denver were killed today with six other patrons of Finch's Boutique injured. A Chicago Transit bus driver attempting to regain control of his bus after hitting an icy patch, swerved to avoid a pedestrian, and tore through the store front. Names of the deceased have yet to be released pending"
"SNOW AND ICE DELAY MANY TRAVELERS AT O'HARE"
Had taken it's place. Satisfied he'd done his job, Gary headed back to McGinty's, and hopefully his first break of the day.
* * *
"Sherry, this place is great!" Skip declared, glancing around the Irish pub. "How'd you and Murph hear about it? It's not exactly a hot spot for tourists."
"Not quite back home but close," Cait added. Her brogue thickening a bit for effect, she grinned at her cousins-in-law.
"Sarah recommended it," Sherry acknowledged. She passed the potato skins to Lee and Amanda. "She and Matt stumbled on it one day." She smiled guiltily. "We thought it would make a great place to meet."
Huddling out of the frosty Chicago wind at a booth near the back of McGinty's, half-finished drinks and appetizers in front of them, the representatives of the Michaels' clan comfortably related the varying events in their lives.
Andy grabbed another buffalo wing from the platter Caitlin playfully tried to get past him to Mel, washing it down with a swig of beer. "These are some of the best I've had. What'dya think, Skip?" There was no response. "Skip?"
Halfway bringing his attention back to the conversation, Skip's gaze remained fixed on the vaguely familiar figure who'd just entered the establishment. "Huh? What Andy? Oh, yeah, uh huh, sure, great" He kept trying to place the stranger talking to the blind woman at the bar. "That guy over there," he interrupted Andy's soliloquy on buffalo wings. "The one in the black jacket?" All eyes moved towards the person Skip pointed out. "Does he look familiar? I could swear I know him, but just can't get from where."
With the man's back to them, the cousins strained to see his face. He gestured broadly, turning slightly towards group as he did so.
"Skip!" Mel cried, inhaling sharply at the loudness, quieting her voice to an almost-whisper. "It's the terrorist from the airport."
Skip's eyes widened in realization. "We found out after we left the airport someone kinda'd put a bomb on the luggage carrier," Skip related. "They caught the guy, but we saw him," Skip began to point, but Melanie pulled his arm down immediately, "Shoot outta the luggage carousel right before security showed up."
"Not a terrorist, a bank robber," Amanda stated. "We saw him at the bank this morning arguing with another man. He was given a gun and they left."
Lee studied him intently, his hand instinctively patted the gun now in its accustomed place in its shoulder harness. "It looked like he might have stopped a robbery, but if he was involved with a bomb this morning," he explained to his astonished cousins, wincing at the discolored patch on the man's cheek that soon became visible in the dim light of the bar. "But that black eye's new. He didn't have it when he ran into us."
"That would be from my fist impactin' with his face." Andy glared, his eyes narrowing to slits. "He tried to molest Cait."
"Andy!" Cait chastised. "He wanted us off the elevator, and he was right. It wasn't safe."
"And how could he know that if he didn't do it himself?" the rancher questioned.
"What happened?" Lee asked, not taking his gaze from the stranger for a minute.
"He shut down the express elevator at the Sears Tower. Then as soon as he woke up," Cait looked at her husband pointedly, "he high-tailed it out of there like the devil was after him, but we were still there when they realized the main cable had frayed and wouldn't have made another trip -- and when the back-up brake system failed the test."
"He's had a busy day," Murphy added. "He was outside a card shop Sherry and I were at when a bus went out of control. He'd pulled a woman from its path but when he saw me, he couldn't get out fast enough." Murphy shook his head, completely confounded by the strange man. "I thought he saved her, but I'll go with coincidences only so far"
Sherry peered around the table. "I'm the only one who didn't actually see him," she began. "But if I understand this correctly, each situation seems to be ambiguous as to whether he's the agent of the incident -- or the hero?"
"That sounds about right," Amanda responded, looking to each person at the table for affirmation with even Andy reluctantly agreeing in the end.
"Could he be both?" the therapist suggested on their doubting expressions. "Could he have set up the problem to swing in and save the day?"
"If that's true, he needs help. Should we talk to him?" Amanda asked.
"And what exactly would we say to him?" Lee questioned, inclining his head towards his wife for an answer. "But buses and elevator cables?" Lee returned his attention to the object of their conversation. "He'd have to be pretty resourceful, especially to do that all in one day"
"Or he's something else," Murphy stated distractedly.
"Like what?" Skip watched his friend. "What're you thinkin', Murph?"
The Denver detective gazed up from the beer he'd been twirling. "A hitman."
"For a hitman, he's got a pretty good glass jaw," Andy proclaimed skeptically.
"Our old friend Descoine's been e-mailing someone outside of prison," Murphy confessed. "I got a fax before we left warning me." He frowned. "They don't know who he was contacting or what he was doing, but he set up a modem on a computer that shouldn't have had a modem and tapped into the warden's private phone line." He paused before continuing. "Maybe he was setting up a little revenge."
"And you didn't bother mentionin' this before because" the ex-astronaut accused.
"Because I called the warden and he told me not to worry about it," Murphy defended himself. "They just wanted everyone to check their bank accounts and web sites and anything he could have hacked into and messed around with."
"That doesn't make sense. Why save us or anyone else if he's trying to kill us?" Amanda wondered out loud.
"If any of us got hurt, the others would be on alert," Murphy speculated. "He would need to get us all in one place and do it all at once -- catch us off guard."
"Like say now," Skip suggested, a not-very-happy smile crossed his features as the idea sunk in.
"I say we get him before he gets us," Andy blurted out, trying to extricate himself from the booth by going over the back.
"Calm down," Lee hissed, forcibly re-seating him with a hand to Andy's shoulder. "You'll draw his attention."
"Too late. He's lookin' this way," Mel warned, developing a sudden interest in her empty plate.
"I'll show him" Andy began to turn, but Lee held him back.
"Don't look at him," Amanda cautioned.
"Doesn't really matter anymore," Sherry interrupted. "He's ducking out the back."
* * *
Unaware of the conversation taking place a few yards away about him, Gary filled his partner in on the details of his day.
"It's like Chicago's been taken over by some malevolent force. Every time I fix somethin', there's a new catastrophe to take its place. I don't usually get this kinda activity in a week, let alone twenty-four hours."
Marissa shook her head. "Maybe it's just one of those days, Gar."
The bar owner grimaced. "No, there's definitely somethin', I don't know, more powerful at work here. Some kinda bad luck streak or karma or"
"Don't you think you're overreacting?" Marissa asked with a laugh. "And you don't believe in karma."
"Yeah, well you're not the one with the paper," Gary defended himself. "And after today" he stopped in mid-sentence. A commotion at the rear of the bar caught his attention. A group of eight people seemed to be arguing amongst themselves and Gary could have sworn one of the men was trying to climb over the back of the booth. Instantly he recognized the occupants of the table.
"They're followin' me," Gary announced in a stunned voice, glancing furtively around to see what other surprises were waiting for him.
"Who?" Marissa queried. "Who's following you, Gary?"
"Them," Gary said, obviously spooked. "All the people I've been helpin' today. They're here." He blanched at the sight of the lunatic who'd hit him at the Sears Tower. "I can't let 'em see me. I'll be up in my room," he exclaimed, grabbing the paper. "If anyone asks, I'm gone for the day." He exited through the back to his private apartment upstairs.
* * *
"Lee, how did you get this stuff past airport security?" Cait asked in awe about the handgun in her clutch Lee had supplied. "We were detained once for a water pistol one of the kids slipped in to Andy's pocket."
"A good documentary film maker knows how to get through customs," Lee answered with a wink, then scanned the front of the building and entryway.
Sherry frowned. "This is my sister's wedding. I don't want trouble."
"Don't worry, honey." Murphy encircled his arm around his wife's waist. "We're just taking precautions."
"That's easy for you to say," Skip complained in a whisper, hopping around on one foot while trying to reset the lump slightly visible under his tux pants. "I'm the one with the bear knife strapped to my shin."
"I only had so many shoulder harnesses, Skip," Lee reminded. "And stop that. You're getting us unwanted attention."
"At least you have somethin'," Andy pouted. "Not even a water pistol"
"Hot heads and artillery don't mix, dear." Cait kissed her husband on the cheek.
"Back exits check out," Amanda supplied when she and Mel rejoined their companions. "I think we're ready to go in." She assumed the perfect embassy-smile she'd learned over the years.
"Everyone keep your eyes and ears open," Murphy counseled, crooking his arm for his wife to accompany him into the Standard Club followed by the rest of the crew.
Just inside, Skip pulled up and his mouth dropped open. "Sherry, who is your sister marrying?" he asked in amazement at the wealth and elegance that greeted them.
Sherry laughed. "Matt Cory. He's from one of the wealthiest families in Bay City. They own Cory Publishing" she prompted.
Andy whistled low in appreciation. "This is gonna be some party."
The room quickly filled with fashionably dressed people all milling about, talking amongst themselves. White draperies and flowers filled the space around them with candles burning brightly, casting an ethereally romantic glow to the event. Feeling like outsiders, the Michaels clan made their way into the crowd, hoping against hope they wouldn't spot one particularly familiar face along the way.
* * *
Across town, Gary Hobson sat down to his very late lunch, though if he were being honest with himself he would have called dinner. Reluctantly, he opened the Sun Times, barely repressing the moan at the newest incarnation of headline:
"FIRE BREAKS OUT AT POSH STANDARD CLUB. A fire broke out yesterday at the Standard Club when a candle fell over during the high society wedding of Matthew Cory and Sarah Webster. One fire fighter is in serious condition and three guests are being treated for severe burns. The damage to the building is expected to reach into the millions of dollars..."
"I don't believe this!" Gary complained. He reached for the jacket lying on the counter beside him. Preparing once again to save the day, he gazed longingly at his appetizing turkey sandwich, finally snatching it up as he raced out the door.
* * *
Sarah stood, waiting with her father for her cue to begin the procession when Gary breezed by them. Intent on finding the candle at fault, he ignored the confused stares. The paper had said the fire started when a bridesmaid upset one of the candles, setting the gauzy curtains ablaze. At the front of the hall with the rest of the bridal party, Gary nearly bowled Sherry over to get past her. Spotting the disaster, he caught the candle in one hand and the stand in the other. Righting the table, he replaced the still burning candle on it and pulled the drapes further away, grabbing a ribbon from a bridesmaid's bouquet to tie it up.
He grinned sheepishly when he turned to see all eyes upon him. "Fire safety first," he counseled weakly, then moved to race back down the aisle before anyone could process what had just happened but paused at the sight of the people he'd encountered through the day.
The woman from the bank had a look in her eyes like she was ready for whatever, and Gary caught the glint of a gun hidden skillfully in the man's hand. The airport guy sat in his chair, tearing frantically at his ankle while the lady he'd also seen there tried to help him. And the nutso from the Sears Tower was being held back only by a hand on his chest from the lady next to him, and Gary knew instinctively she would be a force to deal with if necessary. That left only the card-shop man. He turned slightly to see him taking speculative steps down the aisle after him.
Gary instantly resumed his flight and stumbled past Sarah, doing some fancy footwork to avoid a full on entanglement with the train of her gown.
Finally broken out of the spell of his sudden appearance and rescue, the guests started buzzing excitedly about what had occurred.
In the confusion, Murphy left the wedding party to join his friends.
Completely baffled by this new event, Amanda and Cait exchanged shocked looks. "He's pretty inept for a hitman?" Caitlin commented in a hushed tone.
"He just stopped a fire, didn't he?" Amanda asked. "He couldn't have arranged a clumsy bridesmaid, could he?" Amanda frowned at what she was about to say. "It's like he knows what's going to happen before it does."
Lee chuckled. "Amanda, I think your imagination is getting the best of you," he teased her but took one last look to where the guy had disappeared. "No one can see the future. If they could, our family would have a lot less exciting reunions."
"But the bomb and bus and robbery and elevator and now a fire" Murphy let his voice trail off.
"It would explain an uneventful gathering of more than one branch of the Michaels family." Amanda tilted her head, daring a challenge. "Things have almost happened, but that man has stopped each and every one."
"Well, if this boy is some kinda superhero savin' the innocent from tragedy, I say we hunt him down and give him a permanent invitation to our family gatherings," Skip pronounced.
"I'll admit it's odd," Lee responded. "But I refuse to buy some higher power's given that guy the job of keeping us out of trouble. That's a full time career! And why haven't we noticed him before?" Lee tried to avoid catching Skip's eye, afraid he'd burst out laughing at the idea his wife was seriously harboring.
"And this isn't a real reunion," Cait pointed out.
"That's never stopped it before," Amanda said under her breath.
"'Sides, the weekend's not over," Skip added, winking at Amanda. "We've still got plenty of time to get into trouble."
Andy cleared his throat loudly. "Uh, guys, I think Sherry's trying to get our attention to get this wedding back into gear."
"And I think we'd better help her," Mel added, scooting around her still-seated husband to help her friend get everyone organized.
"Let's go guys," Lee agreed, leaving Skip on his own to try to pull down his half-hiked up pant leg.
Lee had worked hard at trying to laugh off the idea of their very own Chicago-based angel, but he'd found himself scanning the crowds and restaurants the rest of that evening until each of the couples had left on their respective early morning flights home. At least the hitman idea had easily been dispelled with a phone call to Murphy's answering machine. The evil Descoine's calls had been traced to a small-time bookie and no one else.
Thinking back on all the incidents more than he really wanted to be, Lee realized that bar they'd met in was the only place they'd crossed paths with the stranger and nothing had happened. Lee wondered if that meant something. But that would have to wait for another day another visit
Now he and Amanda were leaving the Windy City and all the speculation that had continued to be a topic of conversation seemed just plain silly. A man who could see the future -- who spent his days changing it? No way. It could never happen, Lee could now say that with certainty. He leaned back in his seat and looked out the window, relieved to be leaving Chicago before the weatherman's predicted blizzard hit.
Lee smiled to himself. The weatherman. Maybe he did believe in one guy who saw into the future. He entwined his wife's hand in his, then brought it up to his lips for a quick kiss. Chicago hadn't been all bad.
* * *
Thump. Meow. Gary Hobson moaned as he heard the paper. His ritual wake-up call had arrived.
"Please tell me it's not 6:30 already," he pleaded groggily. Yesterday's events had worn him out completely. He couldn't remember ever having such a busy day.
Groaning, he slipped out of bed and stumbled to the door, dreading what the day held in store for him. Bending down, he sleepily scratched his head then picked up the Times. Closing the door, he shuffled into the kitchen and blindly grabbed for the coffeepot. Reaching back, he pulled up a chair, then sank into it, news in hand. Knowing he had to face the music, he spread the pages out on the table in front of him and began reading.
He blinked in disbelief, rubbing at his eyes to clear his sleepy vision.
"CITY PLAYS AS SNOW FALLS. Chicago enjoyed one of those rare peaceful days as the snow kept most Chicagoans home bound. Emergency rooms reported almost no crises marred this beautiful play day and officials"
Flipping through, Gary found nothing but good news, stories of empty streets, closed schools, snowball forts and fights, and warm homes of weather forcing Chicagoans indoors en masse.
"Well I'll be," he murmured aloud, grinning widely. "A day off."
For the first time in three years, Gary Hobson, owner of McGinty's Bar & Grill -- and hero extraordinaire -- carefully folded the paper and went back to bed.