"Mindin' your own business still is the best way to stay out of trouble." My dear Uncle Moe. He's sitting at the kitchen table.

"And this would be advice that you yourself have followed, is it?"

A brief chuckle. "No laddie. But bein' that your dear father is no longer with us, I felt it my duty to impart the wisdom of my experience upon you."

"No offense Uncle, but you're full of shit."

"None taken, boyo."

Kelly came padding into the kitchen and sits. To me, "Coffee." To Moses, "Good morning Uncle Moe."

"Aye, and a lovely day it is."

I deliver the cups to the table. "Want to take a trip to London." Kelly tilts her head ever so slightly; looks up to me and said, "Sure. I can get away for a couple of days. What's this all about?"

"Connor needs some help."

"You know what, tough guy. I suspect that deep down inside you're committed to dragging me into a life of crime." Penelope Kelly Anne Lane is about as straight an arrow as the Good Lord ever created. My little acts of stepping over the line were a great source of consternation to her. Truth be told, it nearly destroyed our relationship. Today, while not thrilled with these transgressions, Kelly appears to have accepted me, blemishes and all.

She asked, "Where's Connor?"

Last evening, upon our return, Connor repeated that he had a plan; that he would be gone for the better part of the day and to leave matters in his hands. My response was, "Whatever you say." He was off to bed and I haven't seen him since.

"What are you up to today, sweetheart? I'll be at the museum."

"Kill some time until I hear from my brother. Run up to New Hope."

Kelly rose, kissed me sweetly on the mouth and went off to shower. I loaded the Morgan, told the beast to hop in and took off. An hour and a half later I was parked in the courtyard of 96 E. Bridge Street in New Hope.