The door was opening. I quickly tucked the letter into my pants. It would have to wait. Vincent, my replacement in the mail room, eyed me, piercing me with his eyes. Did he see me stuff the letter in my pants?

“Any interesting letters?” he asked.

“No, mostly fan mail addressed to Paulo. And sob stories.”

“Another day in the life, huh?”

“Yep.”

“So, how did you get fast tracked into the program? Paulo normally doesn’t promote newbies so quickly.”

“Look out the window and pick something.”

“What?”

“Just pick.”

“How about that guard dog way back there?”

“It’s a shame,” I said. “I love dogs.”

I quickly drew my weapon and fired. The dog fell, the bullet entering its head right between the eyes.

“Whoa! Incredible shot. Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

“My father was a cop. I practically grew up in the shooting range.”

Vincent lowered his eyes. “I better get started. Hey, can you do me one favor before you go?”

“What?”

“Tell me why you stuffed that letter in your pocket.”

Damn.