Jack Reaver sat at his desk as the evening sun slipped behind the coastal mountain range. A stiff shot of something sour and spicy sat off to the side as he poured over the evidence in front of him. Photos from last night's hit outside Gracy's bar flashed in front of his eyes. It was Mason's MO alright. Sure as shooting.
The door to his office opened slowly, an older woman slowly came into view. "Will there be anything else, Mr. Reaver?"
Jack looked up and gave the old gal a smile. "No, Mrs. Reaver. Thank you for your good work today."
Mrs. Reaver shot him a look. "It's either Margaret or simply Miss M, Jacky. I don't want folks catching on that you're temporarily employing your old mother to answer phones for you."
He smiled to himself. He knew his dear old mother was happy to be off the porch and making herself useful in society again. She hadn't been the same since the children had flown the nest and his father had passed a few years hence.
"You're going to nail that Mason, aren't you Jacky? You're going to put him in jail?"
He nodded. "Yes, mother. All I need is one witness and he's done."
Margaret seemed pleased at his answer. "And you're coming by on Sunday for dinner?" she continued.
Again, he nodded.
"Why don't you bring that Stacey woman with you? She seems a bright little thing."
His mother's face clouded over a little and she paused before delivering her final thought for the evening. "You will be careful, won't you son? I couldn't bear the thought of you lying in chalk."
He continued his smile and stood to reassure her. "You know I will. This isn't my first rodeo."
She studied her oldest boy for a moment, then quietly slipped away with a little nod.
The evening light was fading fast as Jack took his seat again. There was only one name left on the list of people that had sat in the jurors box that put Mason's wife away for murder. "Jenny Schmidt," he murmured.
Sure, the cops were on to Mason's little revenge game, but they had failed to protect the last 3 victims. Their deaths were all clean to people on the outside looking in. 'Tragic Accident' was the term of the day. But not Jenny. Not little Jenny Schmidt, Jack's high school sweetheart. Jenny was going to have a little extra protection tonight.
"Not tonight, Mason. Not ever," he thought to himself as he emptied the tumbler leaving only the ice and his inhibitions behind.
Moving to the grandfather clock in the corner of his office, Jack opened the door and set the hands to midnight. A barely audible click is heard from across the room. Moving next to the large filing cabinet in the opposite corner, he pulls open the empty oversized bottom drawer. After giving a quick glance out the large window overlooking the street below, Jack slides inside the drawer and disappears from view.
An electric motor whirs to life and Jack feels himself dropping rapidly in the darkness. A moment later, the drawer opens again and Jack steps out into the sewers below the building. His presence is sensed and all manner of wonderful machinery hums to life around him.
Pulling at the tie which hung loose around his neck, his glance falls on a nearby clothing rack draped with shimmering white material.
"Not ever," he says aloud this time. "Not with The Eraser on duty tonight."