Levon opened his eyes slowly, reluctantly acknowledging the fact that it was indeed morning.  A quiet shuffle in the
room quickly chased away any lingering drowsiness and he turned towards the sound.  She walked past the bed
without looking at him to pull the curtains across the window changing the light in the room from bright sunlight to
gentle daylight.

"Caroline?” he whispered.  She turned around and, when she smiled at him, pain washed over his body. 

“Caroline,” he whispered once more and the tortured look on his face made her stop smiling and she quickly stepped
over to the bed.

“Are you all right, Levon?” she asked as her hand touched his forehead.  He reached up and gently took her hand
in his.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, “it must have been a dream.”  He smiled, then, and pulled her down to sit next to him.  She
smiled back and, as she leaned down to kiss him, he put both of his arms around her and pulled her even closer.
She relaxed in his arms for a moment, then laughed and pushed herself away.

“You don’t have time,” she told him as she sat up again.  “Joey will be here soon.”

“Joey?”

“Your partner,” she reminded him.  He looked at her, a confused frown replacing his smile.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she warned as she stood up and looked at him sternly.  “You promised me I could use the truck
today.”  He laughed happily and grabbed her hand to pull her back down on the bed next to him.

“He’ll be late,” he said.

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

“All right, already!” Levon called in answer to the insistent pounding as he walked towards the front door. “Hold your
horses, LaFiamma!”  Levon opened the door and his smile faded as he looked at his partner’s serious expression.

“The man from the hotel died,” Joe told him.

“Then I guess we better talk to Bobby.”  Levon grabbed his hat from the stand next to the door then walked past Joe
and headed towards the dark blue sedan parked in front of the house.  He was sitting in the passenger seat almost
before Joe stepped off the porch.

Levon was staring straight ahead as Joe slipped behind the wheel.  Joe was beginning to recognize that stony look and
he opted not to say anything.  The silence didn’t last long however, because, as they pulled away from his house.
Levon turned and looked at Joe.

“Do you even know where Bobby’s office is?” he said with a slight smirk.  Joe tilted his head slightly and glanced over
at Levon.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll let me know if I make a wrong turn, won’t you?”

“Count on it.”

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

Caroline walked up to the open front door just as the car pulled away.  She watched until she could no longer see the
car then shook her head wistfully as she slowly closed the door.  After the door clicked shut, the house suddenly
seemed overwhelmingly quiet.  This case Levon was working on involved his friend and he was already showing signs
of the strain it was putting on him.  But she knew he would pursue its course relentlessly, just as he did with any of his
cases.  Caroline knew he loved his job, but she sometimes feared it overshadowed his love for her.  She took a deep
breath and walked purposefully across the room to switch on the radio, turning up the sound loud enough to fill the
emptiness.

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

(1)   Levon stormed into Bobby Wilton’s outer office with Joe a step behind.  Wilton’s secretary stood up at her desk to
stop them, but both Levon and Joe walked past her before she could say a word.  Levon shoved the large mahogany
door open and stepped inside Wilton’s office.  Joe stopped beside Levon as the door silently closed behind them.

Levon’s attention was focused so completely on Wilton, he did not notice the luxurious office or the Houston skyline
visible through the glass wall behind Wilton as he sat at a gleaming black marble desk.

“Something wrong, Levon?” Wilton asked quietly, a slight frown on his face.

“You lied to us,” he said matter-of-factly as he put the friendship aside and became only a police officer.  Joe felt the
controlled anger in Levon’s voice and he glanced cautiously over at his partner.

“I don’t know what you’re …” Wilton began as his dark eyes narrowed in defense.

“Save it,” Levon said, cutting him off.  “I don’t want to hear anything from you but the truth.”

“Just who in the hell do you think you’re talking to?” Wilton demanded as he stood up angrily.

“A suspect in a murder case,” Joe told him.  “The man in the elevator just died.”

Wilton flinched slightly and he turned away for a moment.  When he turned to look at the two detectives confronting
him, the anger had gone from his eyes.

“How do you figure that makes me a suspect?” he asked indifferently.

“You’ve been withholding information right from the start,” Levon said.

“What do you want to know?” Wilton asked coldly.

“Why’s the mob down here lookin’ to splash your brains?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wilton answered, covering his surprise.  “And neither do you.”  As the two
friends stared at each other, Levon sighed then decided to make once last effort.

“Bobby, why don’t you just tell me what’s goin’ on and let me try to help you?”  Wilton looked down for a second and
the look on his face when he looked back at Levon said it was too late for that.

“What could you do to help me?” he asked quietly, as he took on the offensive.  “You’ve been standing still ever since
college.”  He paused as he watched Levon’s shoulders go back and, in the short silence that followed, he decided to
continue, knowing their relationship had changed forever.

“You know it, too.  Don’t you?” Wilton continued.  “I can see it in your eyes.  You’re a loser, Levon.  You’ve never done
anything important…and you never will.”

Joe held his anger, waiting for Levon to react, ready to back his partner.  Levon just stood there, however, then turned
without a word and headed for the door.  Frustrated, Joe hesitated a moment before following Levon out of the office.

The warmth of the sunshine did nothing to ease the cold, dark feeling that surrounded Levon as he left the building.  He
was aware of Joe following him, but his mind was busy trying to connect the icy stare and harsh words with the friend
he once knew.

“Hey!” Joe asked as he fell into step alongside Levon.  “How come you let Wilton talk to you like that?”  He was angry
with Wilton for the attitude that allowed him to talk to a police officer that way and angry with Levon for letting him.

“What d’ya want me to do,” Levon answered after a moment, “knock his teeth down his throat?”  Joe’s anger
dissipated as he looked away with a smile.

“That’s what I would’ve done,” he admitted.  Levon stopped to turn and confront Joe.

“Listen, LaFiamma.  Right now we gotta find the guy who tried to take him out at the hotel and your friend Girandi’s got
some answers for us.”

“Let’s go talk to him.”

As they drove away from the building, Levon glanced in the side-view mirror then shifted as if to get a better look at
something outside the car.

“LaFiamma,” he said after a few seconds, “we got some fleas.”

“Fleas?”

“Yeah. In language you’d understand, we’re being tailed.”

Joe immediately glanced up at the rear-view mirror and saw the light blue sedan weaving in the lane a couple cars
behind them.  He pushed down on the accelerator and the car jerked forward.  He began to weave in and out between
cars to get ahead of traffic and at first chance he took a hard right narrowly missing the car he swerved around.  The
sedan took the same turn, skidding around the car that had stopped to avoid hitting the car Joe was driving.  Joe turned
onto an empty side street and pulled into a parking garage about halfway down the block.  The sedan followed and
sped up the ramp as the two men inside watched for the car they had been following.  As it came to a level parking
area, the car slowed to a crawl so the men inside could search the area.

Over, there,” one of the man said as he spotted a dark blue car parked in front of a far wall.  They drove up alongside
the car and looked inside.

“That’s not it,” the driver said.  As he put the car in reverse and prepared to back away, their car lurched forward as
something hit it from behind.  The driver looked up in the rear-view mirror and saw that Joe had driven up behind them
and was now pushing their car forward.  When the front of their car edged into the wall, Joe stopped and he and Levon
jumped out with their guns drawn.  Together, they carefully edged their way along either side of the car and opened the
back doors so they could aim their guns at the back of each of the men inside the car.

“Take the keys out and get out of the car,” Joe told the driver.

“Get out,” Levon told the man on the passenger side.  The two men got out of the car with their hands in the air.

“Let’s see some ID,” Levon demanded.

“ID,” Joe repeated to the man in front of him.  Levon examined the wallet the man handed to him.

“Organized Crime Task Force,” he read then glanced at Joe.

“They’re Feds!” Joe said after he looked at the wallet he was holding, then both he and Levon tossed the wallets on
the top of the car in disgust.  

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

The house was dark when Levon finally got home.  He tossed his hat and jacket on a chair and headed for the
bedroom.  Caroline was asleep.  As he quietly walked up to stand next to the bed, he could hear her even breathing
and he reached down to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen across her face.  He stood watching her for a
minute, hoping she would awaken.  When she didn’t, he started to reach down to touch her shoulder and she turned
over in her sleep, almost as if she was moving away from his hand.  He sighed and left the room.

As he entered the small dining room, he switched on the light.  The only thing on the table was an empty glass.  Levon
picked up the glass and took it into the kitchen.  When he set the glass down next to the sink, he noticed the bottle
sitting in the middle of the counter.  It was nearly empty.  He picked it up and looked at the small amount of liquid left,
trying to remember how much more had been there yesterday or if it was even the same bottle.  All of a sudden, it
didn’t seem to matter and he grabbed a clean glass from the cupboard and turned to leave.  Caroline was standing in
the doorway.

They watched each other in silence, their unspoken accusations hanging in the air.  Caroline glanced down at his
hands, noticing the bottle in one and the empty glass in the other.  As she looked up again at him, Levon wanted to tell
her he was sorry.  Maybe he shouldn’t have stayed so long at Chicken’s talking to LaFiamma.  Maybe he should have
called.  Maybe.

He did not say any of those things.  He simply walked past her and sat down at the dining room table.  As he emptied
the bottle into the glass, she sat down next to him.  Levon could feel her watching him but he did not look at her;
instead, he stared at the glass in his hand but did not take a drink.

“Levon,” she said quietly as she reached over and touched his arm, “what’s wrong?”  He slowly turned his head to
look at her.  Her eyes watched him intently and he felt their power far more than the soft touch of her fingers on his
arm.  He put the glass down and laid his hand over hers.

“My partner’s related to the mob,” he said with a sigh, “and my friend is working for them.  First we find out that the
Feds are watching LaFiamma and now it’s beginning to look like Bobby may have hired someone to shoot at him to get
the HPD to protect him from the mob.”  He closed his eyes for a moment as if he was trying to squeeze away the pain.

“A man died, Caroline,” he whispered when he looked at her again.  She reached up and put her hand on his cheek,
wishing she could take away his pain.

“I’m sorry, Levon,” she said softly.  “Maybe we should cancel the party.  We could wait ‘til next month when things are
better.”

“No,” he said with a sigh.  “After all this gets wrapped up, a party might be just what we all need.”  She smiled and took
his hands in hers as she stood up to leave.

“It’s late,” she said.  Levon stood up, no longer interested in the drink on the table, and followed her from the room.

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

(1)  Joe and Levon finally tracked down Girandi at the Museum of Fine Arts.  He was sitting on a bench outside the
Museum staring at a large statue.  Joe sat down on one side of him and Levon sat on his other side.

“Nick, since when are you an art lover?” Joe asked him.

“It’s a good investment.  I took a class,” Nick answered.  “Who’s the cowboy?” he asked without looking at Levon.

“My partner.  So, why don’t you talk to me about this Wilton thing?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Girandi said quietly, moving closer to Joe.  “We sent in the dirty clothes.  Instead of
coming out clean, they don’t come out at all.”

“So you’re saying he was laundering money for the mob and started holding out?”

“I ain’t say…….” Girandi began but was interrupted when Levon stood up and grabbed his collar.

“You’re talking about a friend a’mine,” Levon said angrily.  “You better be able to prove this.”

“Come here, Lundy!” Joe demanded as he walked away from Girandi.  Levon let go of Girandi and followed Joe.

“What’s the matter with you, huh?” Joe asked.  “You talk to him like that, you think he’s gonna tell us anything now?”

“He’s told me all I need to know.  I thought Bobby made all that money on his own.”

“Well, I guess your self-made man had a little help.  Why don’t you beat it and let me talk to him.” Levon reluctantly
returned to his truck to wait for Joe to finish talking to Girandi.  

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

(1)  Later, that afternoon, Levon was at home alone.  Caroline had gone out shopping and he took a few moments to look
back and remember his college days with Bobby Wilton.  As he sat at his desk looking through some old photos, there
was a knock at the door.

“It’s open,” he said and a man entered followed by Bobby Wilton and then another man.

“He’ll be all right in here,” Levon assured the men with Wilton.  With a slight nod of his head, Wilton agreed and the
men left, leaving Levon and Wilton alone.  Levon stood up and watched as Wilton looked around the room.

“Ain’t much, is it?” Levon said.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Wilton answered quietly.

"I used to be able to tell what you were thinking.” Levon said.  “Guess that don’t work no more, huh?”  Wilton turned
and walked towards Levon with his hands raised, as if in surrender.

“Levon, I didn’t come here to fight with you.  When you called, I figured this might be a good chance to kinda smooth
things over.  Like in the old days.  Remember?”  Levon nodded in agreement.

“We sure had our share of set-too’s, didn’t we?” Wilton continued.  “But we always got over ‘em.”  Levon sighed in
exasperation and turned to face Wilton.

“Bobby, you’re not some kid in football pads no more.  The mob is lookin’ to kill you, man, and you’re a suspect in the
hotel shooting.”

“Yeah, I know,” Wilton whispered.  “Levon, when I said you’d never done anything important in your life, that wasn’t
about you.  That’s something I’ve always been afraid of.  I’ve been fightin’ that feeling all my life.”

“You ain’t done too bad for yourself.”

“No, but it hasn’t been easy.  Not with all those rules they lay down in front of you.”

"So you just decided to step on a few, huh?  What the hell’s the matter with you, Bobby?  Why have you gotten
involved with these people?”“It’s the fast lane, Levon.  You gotta make trade-offs to get into it, but I had to get into it.”
Levon walked up to stand directly in front of Wilton.

“Is it worth losing you life over?  Cause that’s liable to be what it costs you.”  Wilton laughed and turned away.

“There’s nothing gonna happen to me, Levon.”  In that moment Levon knew there was nothing he could do to stop
what was happening.  He reluctantly found himself hoping that Joe’s uncle would be able to do something.

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

(1)  Joe quickly grabbed the phone when it rang, while Levon watched anxiously as he sat across from him.

“Joey.  It’s me, Uncle Mikey.”

“Uncle Mikey, thanks for calling,” Joe answered.  “What d’ya find out?”

“Some people around here are awfully sore at this guy Wilton.”

“Yeah, I figured that.  Listen, Girandi’s been spotted by the Feds, so anything happens to Wilton, it’s gonna come back
on him pretty hard.”

“I’ll give ‘em your message.  But this business of us talkin’ on the phone, it’s gotta stop.  I’ll call you back at four, but
this is the last time.”

“I’ll be waitin’ for your call.  Listen, tell everybody I miss ‘em.”

“Miss you too, Joey.”

Joe set the phone down and leaned back while Levon watched in silence.

“I still don’t think it’s right for a police officer to be talking to a member of the mob,” Levon said quietly.

“He’s my uncle,” Joe protested.“If it ever came down to it, LaFiamma, where would your loyalties lie?  With him or
HPD?”

“Look, Lundy, I love my uncle, but when it hits the fan, I’m a cop first.  My loyalty lies there.”

“Then you can’t keep on asking these favors.”

“Why not?”

“What’s gonna happen one day when one of these people comes back and asks you for a favor?”

Joe frowned as he looked at Levon.  He knew better than anyone the truth in what Levon was saying.  He had never
really thought about it until now. 

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

While Joe and Levon waited for the phone call from Uncle Mikey, Girandi was getting ready to board a plane and leave
Houston; a Federal Agent confronted Lt. Beaumont and Caroline was happily shopping for her upcoming party.  The
Federal Agent was convinced that LaFiamma was not only working for the mob, but was also going to kill Wilton.  As a
result, the Houston Police Dept. was being taken off the Wilton case and the Organized Crime Task Force would be
handling his protection.  Levon was so involved with his case that he seemed to have forgotten it was Christmas time,
so Caroline was trying to find some decorations for her party to help awaken the Christmas spirit.

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

(1)  Joe looked over at the clock on the corner table next to him.  3:57.  The clock hadn’t changed from the last time he
looked.  Levon watched Joe shift impatiently as they sat waiting.  He knew, inside, he was feeling just as jumpy as Joe.

“You know that phone’s bound to be tapped,” Levon said calmly.

“So what?  I got nothin’ to hide. Lundy.  I’m trying to save someone’s life, understand?”

“I understand, but I don’t think they will.”

“What we ought’a do is bust your friend Wilton.”

“What we gonna pull him in for?”

“How ‘bout homicide?  He got that guy in the elevator killed to arrange for us to protect him.”

“But we don’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of proving it.”

“Come on, Uncle Mikey,” Joe said as he glanced at the clock again.  The numbers on the clock changed to 4:00 and the
phone rang.  Joe jumped at it.

“Yeah,” he said into the phone.

“I delivered your message,” Uncle Mikey said.

“So what’d they say?”

“They said they don’t run their business on the say so of some Texas cop.  It’s a go.  Joey, you and your partner might
wanna watch your backs for a while.”

“He couldn’t cancel it,” Joe told Levon as he hung up the phone.  Levon grabbed the phone, almost right out of Joe’s
hand, and dialed as fast as he could.

“Come on, Bobby, answer the damn phone,” he said when the phone on the other end began to ring.  The ringing
stopped, but no one answered.

“Bobby!” Levon dropped the phone realizing time was running out for his friend.  “Let’s go,” he said as Joe followed
him out the door.  

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

(1)  Levon’s truck raced through crowded city streets, over curbs and across dividers as he tried to cut precious
seconds off the time it would take to get to Wilton.  As he finally pulled up into the long driveway leading to Wilton’s
home, two cars blocked the way.  He and Joe jumped out of the truck and started to run towards the house.

“Federal Agents!  You’re under arrest!”  Several people quickly surrounded Joe and Levon.

“It’s going down right now!” Joe told them as shots rang out from the house.

“Damn it!” Joe said and he and Levon pushed their way past the stunned Agents.

“Stay out of it,” Levon told them, “this one’s ours.”

The front door was slightly open as Joe and Levon reached the house with their guns ready.  Joe crouched down and
quietly shoved the door open so he could look inside.  Three men in white overalls were in the front room and
someone was lying on the floor.  One of the men spotted Joe and alerted the other two.  As the man raised his gun, Joe
shot him.  A second man fired at Joe, but missed and Joe quickly took him down.  The third man raised a shotgun
before Joe could shift position, but Levon had already taken aim and the man fell before he could take a shot.  Both Joe
and Levon slowly looked around as they stood up and moved into the room.  There was nothing left but silence.  The
figure on the floor was Wilton, and even before he checked, Levon knew his friend was gone.

Three of the Federal Agents slowly came through the door and Joe and Levon turned to look at them accusingly.

“I hear you people keep count,” Joe said.  “Three mob guys, ours.”

“This one here belongs to you,” Levon said as he walked away from Wilton’s body.  “I hope you got your next career
picked out.”

“I’ll say goodbye to the Lieutenant for you,” Joe said as the agents turned and left without a word.

“My old friend dead.  Your uncle cuts you off,” Levon said slowly.  “Hell of a day, huh?”

“Yesterday’s gone, Lundy.”   

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

Joe waited a moment before getting out of the car.  It looked like every light was on in Levon’s house and he could
hear Christmas music.  He smiled and picked up the bottle of wine from the seat next to him.  As he walked up to the
front door he could see people moving around inside.  Joe slowly raised his hand, but Levon was there to open the
screen door before Joe could knock.

Merry Christmas, Levon,” Joe said brightly as he handed him the bottle.

“Merry Christmas, Joe,” Levon answered.  “Come on in.”  Levon took the bottle of wine and walked over to the table
where Caroline had set up all the food.

“Merry Christmas, LaFiamma,” Chicken said as Levon set the wine on the table.

“Merry Christmas, Chicken,” Joe said.

“I made something just for you.”  Chicken pointed to one of the food-filled dishes sitting on table.  Joe smiled gratefully
at Chicken then glanced around the room.  Joe Bill was sitting on the sofa with his current girlfriend and Caroline was
talking to Joanne and her husband.  LaFiamma didn’t know everyone here, but it didn’t really matter.

“Merry Christmas, Joey,” Caroline said as she walked up to him.  “Levon, did you remember…..?”

“It’s in the truck,” he interrupted.  “I’ll go get it right now.”  Levon walked away leaving Joe talking to Chicken and
Caroline.  The night air was cool and felt good against his face as he walked outside.  He took a couple of steps towards
his truck then stopped and turned to look back at the house.  He could see Caroline through the screen door and, as he
watched her, she turned and smiled at him.  Then, suddenly as he watched, his house became a ball of flame.

The explosion picked him up and threw him back against his truck.  As he slipped to the ground, he watched
everything he knew disappear in the heat and flames.  Then the blessed blackness surrounded him.

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^             ^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

Joe stood up stiffly and stretched.  Hospital chairs were not meant for sleeping.  He looked over at his partner lying on
the hospital bed.  Levon was pale and he hardly moved; it was even hard to tell if he was breathing.

“Caroline.”  A chill traveled down Joe’s back as he heard the one word that Levon whispered.

“Where are you, partner?” Joe asked quietly.

“Hello, Sergeant,” the nurse said as she entered the room and walked over to the bed.  “Why don’t you go get
something to eat?”  Joe shrugged and shook his head.

“Look, the doctor will be here in a little while.  Go take a walk.  You can talk to him then.”

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

The hospital door opened automatically as Joe approached it and he stepped outside into the sunshine.  Today
promised to be a warm, sun-filled day, but it had been raining when he and Levon raced through the streets hoping to
stop the Morgan brothers from killing again.  Levon’s truck had slid around other cars and over curbs until they reached
the aging trailer park.

Deke and Jake Morgan had a fascination with explosives and they had decided to use that fascination to eliminate
people they didn’t like.  Three people had died and several had been injured before Joe and Levon finally got the lead
that pointed them in the direction of the Morgan’s.  With each explosion, Levon had become a little quieter, a little more
irritable, but the fourth explosion was the last straw.  When the woman’s car exploded as she sat waiting at a drive-up
window, Joe began to watch his partner seem to close down and his eyes took on an icy glint.  Then there was the
anonymous call telling them where to find the Morgan brothers.

Levon’s face was like stone as they pulled into the trailer park.  Levon slowed down so they could examine each of the
faded trailers they passed.  They found the Morgan’s trailer by itself at the back of the park.  Levon stopped several
feet away from the trailer and he and Joe got out of the truck.  The lights were on inside and they carefully began to
walk towards the door.  There was a flash of bright white light inside the trailer and both Joe and Levon were knocked
off their feet by the concussion.  Joe looked up at the trailer.  The flames lit up the night, instantly turning the rain into
wisps of steam that mingled with the smoke . He knew no one got out of the trailer as he stood up painfully and looked
around.

“Lundy?” Joe called but there was no answer.  Something inside the trailer exploded and he ducked instinctively.
Then he saw his partner.  Levon was lying still in the grass, a piece of glass imbedded in his side.

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

Joe returned just as the doctor was leaving Levon’s room.

“Well, doc?”

“Sergeant, what was your partner’s state of mind when this happened?”

“Why?”  The doctor took a deep breath before answering.

“No matter how good the doctor is,” he began, “if a patient doesn’t want to….”

“No way, doc,” Joe insisted and walked past the doctor and into Levon’s room.  The doctor smiled to himself.  He had
learned a long time ago not to argue with mothers, spouses and, now, partners.  Besides, sometimes they were right.


“Come on back, partner,” Joe said as he stood by the bed and looked down at Levon.  His breathing was even and
steady.  That was a change.  This morning he could hardly tell Levon was breathing.  “Lundy, you can’t leave me alone
in this cow town,” he thought, “I need you.”

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

Levon wandered alone in the darkness.  It was quiet except for the distant voices.  He turned away from the voices,
searching for the silence.  Then suddenly flames flashed in front of him and he rushed towards the yellow and white
heat, but something pulled him back.

(2)  “You couldn’t have saved her,” the voice said behind him but before he could turn to see who it was, the
darkness washed over him and he was alone.

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \

The nurse watched her patient as she went through her routine.  His blood pressure was good, his heartbeat was
strong, “Why don’t you wake up,” she thought.  She sighed and adjusted the blanket covering him then turned to leave.

“Sergeant, why don’t you go home and get some rest?” she asked when she noticed Joe sitting quietly in the chair
against the wall.  Joe just continued to watch Levon as he shook his head.

“Suit yourself,” she said under her breath as she left.

What Joe wouldn’t admit to anyone was he afraid that if he stopped watching him, Levon would slip away.

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

More images began to flash in front of Levon’s eyes as he struggled to find his way through the darkness.


     (3)   He was sitting on the floor in his hallway.  Joe's hand was on his shoulder.

           “Wha’ do I look like?” Levon asked as Joe crouched down next to him.

           “Like a bull rider… Monday morning?” Joe told him.

     (4)   He and Joe came running out of a dark building into a sun filled alley.

           “Next time your mine!” Joe screamed in frustration as they watched the truck speed away.

           “Be careful what you wish for, LaFiamma.”

     (5)   Joe pulled his shiny blue Cobra in front of the Jimmy and it screeched to a halt.  Both men got
          out of their cars to face each other.

          ”Shall I assume we’re partners, suspension or not?” Joe asked as they stood in the middle of the
           street.

           “Yeah, you can make that assumption.  We’re partners,” Levon assured him.

    (6)   They had been running through the woods.  They were being chased.

         ”Well, you got your way of doin’ things and I got mine, Lundy.”

          “Wha’ do you say we put ‘em together again?” Levon said as he tied his kerchief around the cut on
          Joe’s leg.

          “Well, they do have a way of working, don’t they?”

     (1)   “Hell of day, huh?” Levon asked Joe as they watched the Feds leave.

           “Like you said, Lundy, yesterday’s gone.”

The images faded and Levon saw himself standing in front of his house.  Caroline was at the door.  She was smiling.  No, it wasn’t his house.  It was an old, battered trailer and Caroline wasn’t there at all.  A flash of white light filled his vision and Levon opened his eyes to escape the image that would follow.

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

Levon opened his eyes and slowly looked around the dimly lit hospital room.  It was quiet and the room was cool.  As
he looked down past his feet, he saw Joe sitting in the chair near the end of the bed.

“Welcome back,” Joe said as he got up and walked over to the side of the bed.

“How long ‘ve I been here?”

“Couple days.  How do you feel?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“Are you sure?  Because…,” Joe stammered, unsure if he should continue, “because…well…, you said Caroline’s
name a couple times and….I…uh…”

“LaFiamma, I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Levon assured him quietly.  “Besides, you’d never find your way around this
town without me.  You need me.”  Joe looked at Levon for a moment and Levon watched him right back.  Then they
both laughed.

^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^             ^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^
^ / ^ \ ^ / ^ \ ^

(1)   from “Yesterday’s Gone,” written by Shel Willens
(2)   from “Mirrors,” written by Michael Butler, Eric Blakeney and Gene Miller
(3)   from “Single In Heaven,” written by Michael Ahnemann
(4)   from “North Of The Border,” written by Clyde Phillips and Stan Berkowitz
(5)   from “Diminished Capacity,” written by Phil Combest
(6)   from “Crime Spree,” written by Gregory S. Dinallo

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