14.A few days later, while on their stakeout, Sam got the call at 7:10 a.m. on his cell. It was Arnie Jankowicz, the Phantom Security guard. A black Harley-Davidson Heritage Softail Classic had just passed the dispatch office, headed in the direction of the warehouse on Fourth Street that still stood among the debris of a completely razed block. Sam whispered the information to Jamie and ended, “Yes, Arnie said that the rider was wearing his firefighter gear.”
“It’s our boy!” Jamie said to Sam in a low voice, unable to keep the excitement suppressed from his tone. They were hidden in an empty old packing crate sitting at the corner of the warehouse loading dock. But as they waited, Jamie shivered, not just from the foggy cold. A lingering, niggling observation shifted abruptly to the fron
