The rain stopped and everything seemed brighter, clearer. It was as if the rain had washed a dull film off the landscape. Beautiful!

Waiting for the taxi he ordered, Jake was mesmerized. It was the perfect ending to a wonderful weekend with Fran. She'd given him a loving kiss and wished him a safe and successful trip to DC.

"Hurry back," she'd said. "And good luck!"

Jake smiled, thinking of the ring he was going to give her when he got back. A big step for sure, but he loved her, and if his trip was successful, he would have the opportunity to make more money. He fingered the recorder in his pocket. He had been using it during meetings with his boss, Ryan, who he suspected was pilfering funds. Nail him, then Jake would be out of there.

Suddenly, the smell of smoke shook him from his reverie. The beautiful post-rain technicolors changed into the glow from fire! Where was it coming from?

The cab arrived. Getting in, Jake asked the cabbie, "Could you tell where the fire's coming from?"

"Yeah. News said some lawyer's office. Explosion."

Jake thought of his friend Lawton. He'd sent him a report about their boss, Ryan Mead, detailing his suspicions.

"Do you remember the address?" he asked the cabbie.

"B'lieve they said it was on Arcadia."

"Oh, God, that's our office."

"Do you know if anyone was killed?"

The cabbie wrinkled his forehead in thought. "Some were, but I don't remember the names."

"That's okay. Thanks." Jake's head was spinning. Did someone else suspect Ryan? Or maybe Ryan had found out Jake's suspicions but forgot that he was going to DC. That didn't make sense. Maybe Ryan had hacked into his computer, or ... Lawton...Could he be in on it? And Fran? No. She'd never betray him. And Lawton? Jake would bet money against it.

Instructing the driver to take him home, Jake called and cancelled his flight. Dropping off his bag, he jumped in his car and called Fran, but she didn't answer. Deciding not to waste any more time on calls, he raced to Lawton's house in hopes that his friend wasn't mixed up with Ryan. As he turned into his street, he saw Fran's car and Ryan's, in Lawton's driveway. What?

Hearing voices in the back, Jake headed that way. The three of them, Fran, Lawton and Ryan were celebrating. Jake turned on his recorder in time to hear Fran say, "Poor, Jake. He'll find out, naturally, that you two survived. And he's smart. He'll figure everything out."

Ryan laughed. "Don't worry. I've been planning this a long time. He may be smart, but he won't figure everything out; at least, not in time." He chuckled. "Poor old Jake; we won't have to kill him, because, of course, he'll be in prison, with all the evidence we planted. Too bad, really. I was beginning to like the guy.

"I ... like him, too," Fran said, "and I hate the thought of him going to jail, but ... this is just too good a deal to pass up, and," she grinned, "better him than me."

Lawton looked serious. "I don't like using Jake. He's been a good friend, but, dammit, he's such a straight arrow, I knew he wouldn't be a part of this. And, well, I don't know about you two, but I'm ready to get out of Dodge."

"We're almost there," Ryan said. "Patience. Just a little longer and we're all going to be able to go anywhere we please."

Jake, stunned, turned off his cell phone and headed, sadly, back to his car. He was tempted to flush the engagement ring down the toilet. Too bad he couldn't flush Fran. Childish, but, what an unexpected shock! Well, at least he'd found out before he'd made the fatal mistake of asking her to marry him. It was hard to believe the girl he'd planned to spend his life with was not only a crook, but was willing to sacrifice him in their scheme. She had really played him for a sucker. And Lawton, his friend. What a disappointment. How could he have been so fooled by him, by both of them?

With the information he'd recorded tonight, plus Ryan's previous comments that had made him suspicious in the first place, Jake thought he had enough to get an investigation started. Unfortunately, Ryan wasn't specific about his plans. Jake thought he'd probably have to get more proof. He was still the "unsuspecting" scapegoat, and if they had their way, he'd be the main suspect.

On second thought, why not go to DC as planned, and not only accept the job offer, but hire his cousin, Dave, a criminal lawyer, to see that "his friends" were brought to justice. Fran had made sure he wouldn't feel bad about that, and being made a scapegoat by Lawton was the last straw. It was time to accept the fact that his so-called friends were anything but, and change things in his favor.

By the time he got home, he was so angry, at them, and at himself, he went straight to his bar and poured a straight Scotch. One led to two, then three, and by that time Jake had decided he would take care of them, himself. He was feeling betrayed and justified. Grabbing his pistol out of his desk drawer, he got back in his car and went back to Lawton's. Weaving, he stumbled around to the back to confront them, but no one was there. He hadn't noticed that their cars were gone.

Looking up at the light in Lawton's bedroom, Jake yelled, "Come down here, you ...Judas... you ... fake friend! Lawton's face appeared at the window, and, in a couple minutes he was at the back door, with his hand in his pocket.

"Jake, put the gun down."

"Why? So you can frame me? I heard you. I heard Fran, and of course, Mr. Big Shot. What a bunch of losers, all three of you!"

Lawton walked slowly toward him. He could see Jake's arm was tired, trying to hold his gun up. "Jake, you're drunk. Put your gun down."

Jake brought his other hand up to steady the gun and aimed.

BAM

Jake grabbed his arm and stared at Lawton whose gun was back in his pocket and he was punching numbers in his cell phone.

Jake gathered every bit of strength he had and .... BAM.

Lawton's surprised face as he fell, made Jake smile. His arm hanging loosely, he got to his car and miraculously got himself home.

Fortunately, the bullet had gone through the flesh in the upper part of his arm, so Jake did his best with his left hand and his teeth to cleanse and bandage the wound. Then, realizing he might be questioned by police, he somehow got into his pajamas, then, remembering the car, grabbed a bottle of soda water and stumbled to the garage to clean the blood stains from the seat.

Falling, exhausted, into bed, he remembered Lawton's neighbors. Someone had probably heard...