The most vicious killer I ever encountered sat high on the hill overlooking Astatula eating a meatball sub with lots of extra pickles. To each their own. He took another mouthful and slowly chewed the food up.

"So this is where Brock Daniels landed?" he asked himself. Then, pausing a moment he thought, "Nice little town! Not!"

Bee-Bo had a long standing score to settle. Quietly contemplating his next move, Bee-Bo ran his long pointy fingers through his shoulder-length, burnt-orange mane.

His first two special deliveries placed ten G's in his pocket. His third buyer yearned for a blue-eyed blond.

Bee-Bo took a sip of the soda in his paper cup. The additional ice made the drink much colder, like Bee-Bo's blood. He enjoyed that.

Bee-Bo knew exactly where to find his target. All he would do is bide his time and wait. Simple as that.

Bee-Bo and I crossed paths many years ago. In a location far from Texas that was bright and cheery. Just like Bee-Bo when he performed for the circus back in the day.

His jailhouse snitch was right. The escaped convicted child trafficker was pleased about the news. Too bad for the snitch the information wasn't enough to keep Bee-Bo from slicing a mile-wide, ear-to-ear grin across the stool pigeon's throat with a box cutter before he made his escape. Bee-Bo did not like people who could not keep secrets.

Bee-Bo could not remember if the number of special deliveries he made over the years was in the twenties? Maybe even the thirties! There were so many he lost count somewhere along the way. Very quickly Bee-Bo learned how fruitful the market produced. Those he could not sell became ground meat.

"Amazing what a wood chipper can do!" Bee-Bo smiled to himself.

"Then I came along and reared my ugly head," or so Bee-Bo thought.

I shut Bee-Bo's lucrative operation down. That made Bee-Bo very sad. Bee-Bo did not like to be sad. I knew the mere mention of my name gave Bee-Bo the willies. I could see him once more shudder at the thought. Bee-Bo took another bite of his sandwich.

Bee-Bo had not served thirteen years of a sixty year stretch in prison for nothing. He had a purpose for coming to this hole-in-the-wall, as he considered Astatula to be. And, it was not a social visit. Blood called. So did revenge!

Bee-Bo knew there were plenty of blonds in the little town. Only one would allow him the measure of satisfaction he desperately craved. The 25,000 greenbacks the special delivery would put in Bee-Bo's hand went a long way in persuading him he had nowhere else to go.

Finished with his drink Bee-Bo tightly crumpled his cup up in his fist and thought, "Getting into Cody Schroder's hospital room had been a breeze!"

No one even suspected Bee-Bo brazenly made his grand entrance. Another unique talent Bee-Bo possessed was disguises. He could be anybody he wanted to be at any time. Young or old. Male or female. It did not matter. Presto Chango!

Bee-Bo laughed heartily.

"Funny what my collection of props can achieve," Bee-Bo said out loud to the wind and trees around him.

Slowly standing up and placing his right hand against the bark of a mesquite tree, Bee-Bo wondered if I read the note attached to the stuffed grey wolf he left for Cody in Room 2103 that morning. It read:

"Be diligent Daniels! Be very, very diligent! I have already been in Cody's room once and you had no clue I paid you a visit. I will return for my trophy. When you least expect my appearance I will come claim what is rightfully mine!"

At the end of the warning was a P.S. that read: "Help a little old lady. Buy a rose today."

And it was signed with a "B" - "C".

I immediately recognized the signature as Bee-Bo the Clown. I did find Bee-Bo's note and read it twice. Then folded the note in half and tucked the paper into the pocket of my shirt. I tried to remember all the smallest details of the appearance of the "little old lady" who I purchased the rose from.

Like an elephant I do not forget things of this nature. Cutting my eyes to the red rose laying on Cody's bedside table I bought for Beth I knew I had been duped. For Cody's sake I could not afford to make the same mistake again. And I would not.

Bee-Bo loved surprises. Especially comical ones like the expression he knew would be on my face when I realized what he had achieved that morning. To him it would be priceless! Climbing into his car Bee-Bo crept downhill into town slowly looking all around.

Calling Doctor Patterson I wanted the names and personnel files of every hospital employee associated with Cody's care. I knew I would get them. Time to make sure Bee-Bo did not have any accomplices working at Astatula General Hospital.

Then I called Beth. I explained to her my reasoning for wanting my snub-nosed .45, with its hollow-point rounds, brought to the hospital. I would have much preferred my service revolver. But not being the Sheriff any longer I could not gain access to the weapon. That did not mean I could not protect Cody. Far from it.

If Bee-Bo returned I would be more than ready for him.

Cody was not going any place and he most definitely was not going to be sold to the highest bidder!