Ray and his Mountie friend had already arrived and were debating whether or not they should cancel their vacation. Ray didn't want to let a little thing like running into Victoria ruin their fun, but although Fraser didn't want to dampen his friend's spirits, he didn't seem to be in the mood for a good concert, either.
Peter came up behind the Chicago cop and cleared his throat. "I could show you around town like I promised yesterday," he said. "Fraser, you could stay here with my father while we're out. I'm sure he would enjoy your company." He didn't know what had passed between the two the previous night, but whatever it was must have put the Canadian through the emotional wringer. He looked the better for it, though.
"That I would," Caine declared on the tail of Peter's suggestion, entering the room with Dief alongside. The wolf immediately began pacing the room, sniffing the air.
The Mountie cocked his head and considered. Peter noticed he wasn't wearing his hat, which stuck out as unusual because he had kept it on the entire time they had been in Chicago, except when eating, and had brought it along with him. "That sounds as though it will be a satisfactory solution for all concerned. Very well, I--"
He might have continued, but just then Dief began whining and trotted over to the balcony.
"What's the matter?" Ray called out, ignoring the fact that the wolf couldn't hear him. "Doughnut truck going past?"
Dief's whine deepened into a growl.
Peter saw a subtle shift in Fraser's demeanor. He didn't exactly straighten up, for he hadn't been slouching in the first place; rather, a certain intensification of his gaze and concentration of his attention contributed to the effect. "What is it, Diefenbaker?"
As if in response, a terrified, feminine scream rose from the street below. All the occupants of the room dashed to the balcony, Fraser in the lead, in time to see a slim figure sprint around a corner and out of view. Dief started barking and clawing at the wall that kept him penned in.
"Right. Go." Without a moment's hesitation, Dief took off down the fire escape. The Mountie set his jaw, scrambled up onto the brick ledge, and leapt out into the space beyond.
Peter's heart nearly stopped at the sight. He knew from personal experience that Fraser was prone to jumping out of windows to pursue his quarry, but this was so...high. He didn't let his breath out until he saw the familiar bright red figure running along a nearby rooftop. "Pop," he began, "maybe you should--where'd he go?" Suddenly he and Ray were the only ones in the place.
"Come on," the other officer said, gesturing toward the door. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer to join Benny..."
"No! I mean, the door is fine." Together they headed outside.
"Did you see which way they went?" Vecchio asked, pausing to scan roofs.
"I'm not sure. I think..." He hesitated. Something nagged at him, buzzing at the back of his consciousness. Something out of place. He closed his eyes, the better to listen...there. A car, motor running, directly across the street. He opened his eyes and nodded in its direction without looking at it. "We have company."
"You think this is a setup?"
"That's what my instinct tells me. Okay, I'll give him something to watch, you go around behind him."
"Got it."
Peter drew his gun and made elaborate, visible hand gestures indicating that the Chicago cop should check down the block for the source of the commotion. Hopefully the man behind the wheel of the car would jump to the conclusion that Ray would follow directions and so dismiss him from mind. Peter carefully kept his attention away from the vehicle while simultaneously backing toward it as though by purest chance.
Within moments he heard Ray's voice from behind him. "All right, keep your hands where I can see them, and turn off the engine. Slowly! That's it. Hey, Pete, you know this slimeball?"
Peter dropped the charade and jogged the few yards to the car, stopping by the driver's open window. "Well, well, well, isn't this a surprise? Whatcha doing here, Jack? No, let me guess...birdwatching?"
"Hey, you got nothing on me, Peter. I'm just minding my own business. I've got as much right to be here as anyone."
Peter leaned against the car door and grinned, pointedly examining his gun. "Sure you do, Jack. And since you're such a model citizen, you'll be glad to tell us what you saw here a few minutes ago."
"I don't have to tell you anything."
"True. Oh, by the way, I don't think I've introduced my friend, Detective Ray Vecchio. Ray's from Chicago. He was just explaining to me how they do things differently in such a big city. Cops have got to be a lot tougher on crime there. Isn't that right, Ray?"
Luckily, Vecchio knew a cue when he heard one. He put on his best weaselly smile. "Right you are, Pete. As a matter of fact, we're under constant orders to go with our gut feelings when it comes to getting snakes like you off the street, and my gut is telling me I need to make a couple warning shots across your bow." He shifted his gun so that it pointed directly at the center of Jack's chest. "Unfortunately, I think I should've had my sights adjusted."
Peter felt like bursting into applause, but he managed to keep his poker face intact. Ray was an unknown quantity, and Jack finally folded, unable to be certain that it was all a bluff. "Okay, okay," he said. "I didn't want to be in on this in the first place. There's this woman, Victoria, and she's crazy over some Mountie. She thinks she can get him to join her. That's what this is all about."
"Son of a--" Ray exclaimed. He slammed his fist against the car door. "I knew I should have taken care of her when I had the chance."
Peter turned to gaze at the place where he had last seen Fraser. "Don't worry," he said. "My father will make sure everything comes out okay. I hope."