"I don't want to hear it."

Doug shrugged and surveyed his brother through the dark metal bars. "Hear what?"

"Whatever fucking sanctimonious thing you're going to say." He ran a hand through his hair, his nose wrinkling in disgust as the floppy mess fell forward into his face. "Jesus, I need a haircut."

"And a shave."

"I thought I told you to shut up." He glared at Doug for a moment before shaking his head. "What are you doing here?"

"I got a call."

"The buddy system is still big in the cop world, huh? I guess that makes you about as intelligent as a kindergartener."

"I wouldn't go around slandering my intelligence, Pacey," Doug smiled. "After all, I'm on the right side of the bars."

"You always are, Dougie."

Doug ignored the bitterness lacing Pacey's tone and leaned against the cool stone wall opposite him. "You want to tell me what's going on, little brother?"

"Same old story, Doug. I was stupid."

"You're not stupid, Pace. Maybe a little naïve. A little too trusting, a little too likely to believe the best of people, but you're not stupid."

"Yeah?" Pacey's puffed out a soft breath of disbelief. "Who are you and what have you done with my older brother?"

"Yeah, yeah." Doug waved off the remark. "I'm guessing it's something to do with your job?"

"What makes you say that?" Pacey's smirk was back in full force. "The very intense gentlemen from the Securities commission or all the black-jacketed feds swarming around the building?"

Doug was quiet for a long time, staring hard at his brother. Pacey didn't move during the scrutiny, defiance etched into the hard lines of his body. "Are you dirty, Pacey?"

Pacey's jaw twitched, tightened. "No."

"All right then, little brother, let's see what we can do to get you out of this."

5/15/03