Well, his uniform was going to require some serious rehab. "Not to mention my life," he said out loud. He sighed heavily and began to clean up, stacking the papers back beneath the dictionary, righting the table, picking up the papers that had scattered from the tin lockbox.

One caught his attention, a thick piece of parchment beginning to turn yellow with age. He read it twice, disbelieving his eyes, and a third time, just to be sure.

"Jesus Christ," he said blankly. He stared around the room as if he'd never seen it before. He read the piece of paper again. Was this a joke? This had to be a joke. "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ."

The door opened. Dandy Mike peeped in. "Is it safe to come in now? It's freezing out here."

"What?" Jim remembered Dandy poking his head in the door in the middle of his very own personal firestorm. "Oh. Yeah. Sure. Hey."

"Hey yourself." Dandy sidled inside and cast a wary look around. He seemed surprised at the relative order that reigned inside the little cabin. "I saw Kate leaving, so I figured it was safe to come up."

Oh no. "Were you outside all this time?"

Dandy's eyes slid away. "No. Well, kinda. Well, okay, yeah, I was. What was she so mad about anyway?"

Dandy Mike was, Jim's own activities in that field notwithstanding, the biggest rounder in the Park. He knew women. There was nothing wrong with his hearing, either. Jim repressed a sigh. It'd be all over the Park before sunset, which on this day was less than an hour away. One more thing for Kate to be pissed about.

Although, now that he thought about it . . . Jim felt a smile spread slowly across his face. If word got at least as far as Ethan Int-Hout, that would be okay with him.

"Jim?" Dandy said.

"What are you doing here anyway, Dandy?"

"Who, me? Oh, I don't know, I heard you were in town, and I figured you'd be up here, and, you know, I was first on the scene, so I . . ." His voice trailed off when he noticed Jim's stare. "Well, I wondered if you could use some help is all. I can see you had help, so I'll go."

"Dandy."

Dandy stopped, his hand on the door.

"What's up?"

Dandy turned, pulling off his knit cap and examining the brim as if his soul depended on an even rib stitch. "I hear you're moving your post to the Park."

Oh, hell. Billy Mike hadn't waited to spread the word, and who would he tell but his own son? His own chronically out-of-work son. "News travels fast."

"Yeah. So I was wondering ..."

"Wondering what?"

Dandy shifted his weight. "Well, if maybe you'd be hiring. Like, I don't know, an assistant."

Jim was momentarily dumbfounded. "You want a job?" he said, heavily stressing the first and last words.