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Thinking about when he would finally make it home to Los Angeles, Trevor reached to replace the camera on the nightstand. He looked up at the knock on the door that adjoined his room and the next.

“Come in,” Trevor called out.

“Good news.” Bill Daniels walked in, an older man with a deliberately shaved head. “Weather’s looking good for tomorrow.”

“Yes!” Trevor pumped his fist excitedly like a teenager. “So you going or hanging back?”

“Well…” Bill folded his arms, “was gonna hang back. My story’s done here and I don’t have to be back in Anchorage for a few more days. But since we’ve been stuck here, I think I want to tag along. Eskimo villages or not, I’m pretty bored.”

“Excellent.” Trevor smiled. “I can use the company. I always feel so outnumbered when I do these ‘other culture’ pieces.”

“Guess what? You are outnumbered.” Bill pointed back with his thumb. “I’m heading to bed. Maybe you should too. Chopper lifts at five.”

“Got it. Night.” Trevor rested back, thinking about his journey north to what was considered the largest Eskimo village in Alaska. He’d take in the neighboring communities for pictures, but mostly, he’d stay in Barrow a day or two, get what he needed and head home. The road trip had been delayed enough, but if all went well, Trevor would be home in time for his birthday in a few days. He always looked forward to going out with friends on that day. His only fear was, with the change in climate—arctic cold of Barrow to the summer warm of LA—that his body would go haywire. The last thing Trevor needed on his favorite night of the year was to be sick.

* * *

Cleveland, Ohio

Agents Harden and Bloom assumed exhausted looks as they entered the FBI branch office in Cleveland. Even though it was evening, and only a few office lights remained on, they wanted to get across that the day had beaten them.

After shuffling their feet across the linoleum, they made it into their office, home free.

“Oh, yes.” Jeff Bloom plopped down in his chair. “A little more paperwork and case closed.”

Releasing a sigh as he, too, sat in his chair, Darrell Harden agreed. “Earlier than anticipated, too.”

“Know what we should do?” Jeff asked.

“What’s that?” Darrell kicked his feet on the desk.

“When we finish the paperwork, we should shoot straight to Atlantic City. Eight hours. We can be there by morning.”

“Can your brother get us a room?”

“Oh, sure. Didn’t he last time? I’ll give him a call.” Jerking himself upright, Jeff reached for the phone. “I can go for a little road trip.”

A hand reached down and took the phone from Jeff, replacing it on the base. Captain Johansson stood there with an ornery grin. “Glad to hear you’re in the mood for a road trip.”

“Sir?” Jeff looked up confused.

“Good job on that case today, boys,” Captain Johansson told them.

Darrell smiled impudently. “Thank you, sir.”

“Ready for bigger and better things, I suppose?” the Captain said. He plopped a folder, two-inches thick, before Jeff. “That’s only the preliminary. Pearson and Lawrence were transferred from this case just this morning. It’s all yours. Start with that, the others are in my office.” He started to leave but stopped. “And good thing you boys are in the mood for a road trip. Got a long one for you. You now are following the leads on the world’s hardest to find man.”

Waiting for the Captain to leave, Jeff let out a sound of disgust accompanied with a word of frustration. “Fuck.” He looked at the folder.

“Don’t tell me…” Darrell cringed.

“Ricardo Rodriguez.”

“Ah,” Darrell whined. “I told you not to tell me. That case is three years old.”

“We have it. However, I hear Pearson and Lawrence ended up in Maui on the last lead.”

“No shit?” Darrell nodded, impressed. “Pass that here. Let’s find out where…” he flipped open the folder, “Mr. ‘Man of a Thousand Identities’ will take us next.”

“Hopefully, Vegas.”

Darrell smiled at that. “I can do Vegas.” A little more excited with the prospect of traveling, Darrell dove into the information in the file.

* * *

Lodi, Ohio

In the closing hours, Dylan leaned against the counter by the register of the ‘Hit and Run’ Video store. She peered down at her watch and looked back up at the near-empty store. She listened to the slow moving footsteps. “I’d like to close soon,” she yelled out. Footsteps were her only response. “Sometime tonight!” She listened to the pacing. “I’m charging you double if you don’t make a selection!”

“Christ.” Mick peered around the shelf. “Give me a minute.”

“You are by far our worst customer,” Dylan told him. “We closed three minutes ago.”

“So what,” Mick scoffed. “Here. Got one.”

“Thank God.” Dylan exhaled in relief.

“I think.” Mick walked to the counter with the video case. “Now,” he set it before her, “since you are the video expert, would you say this movie would be a good choice to entice a certain female into coming over to my house, watch this, hang out, and get a pizza?”

Irritated, Dylan lifted the box. “You would hate this.”

“Now, now.” Mick smiled. “My likes are not important. Female perspective. What do you think?”

Inhaling thoughtfully, Dylan looked at the older romance movie. “You’d fare better with a classic action-adventure Bruce Willis flick.”

“Thanks.” Snatching the case, Mick hurried to the shelves.

“Mick,” she whined.

“Hold your horses. Got one.” He flew back to the counter and laid down the movie. “Well? Huh?”

“Better. You stand a chance with this one.”

“Excellent.” Mick smiled. “I’ll rent that.”

“Video card, please.” Dylan held out her hand.

“You’re shitting me.” Mick snickered. “It’s me.”

“Yeah, so? Video card, please,” she repeated. “I got written up twice last month for not asking for a card.”

“You never ask me.” Mick reached for his wallet.

“Well, you’re the reason I got written up. Video card, please.”

“Here.” He laid it in her hand. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble. I just told your dad I feel important coming in here not having to show my card.”

“Yeah, right. You know my father’s my boss.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know your own dad would write you up?”

Dylan handed back the card. “Ten dollars and sixty-three cents.”

“What!” Mick leaned over the counter and peered at the computer screen. “When did you raise your prices?”

“We didn’t. You owe late fees. Come on, Mick…” she held out her hand, “pay.”

“Fine.” He slapped a twenty on the counter, and leaned onto it to be at her level. “So did it work? Did I entice you to come home with me, watch the movie, and get a pizza?”

Handing him back his change, Dylan shook her head. “Can’t.”

“Come on.” Mick winked. “I need to spend some time with you. You know I’m crazy about you.”

Dylan laughed. “You are not. You just think you are because you’re choiceless.”

“Choiceless? What the hell kind of word is that?”

“Very descriptive. You aren’t interested in me, you just have limited choices because I’m the only woman in town not afraid of your big ass.”

“Dylan…”