Frank examined and quickly figured out how the electronic bugs worked. "Pretty simple," he thought, proud of himself. Making one last sweep of the upstairs, "Could use that." A radio alarm clock from the bedroom was put to use in the family room tuned to a talk station set at moderate volume. Frank Sumner was experimenting as to how far away he could be from the bug transmitter with the receiver and still hear speech with clarity. He was impressed. "These guys are good. This stuff really works." In repeating the experiment after removing the back from Marcus's television and pulling a few components out, he planted the most sensitive of the bugging devices inside near the vent holes. That TV also went into the Explorer. "Big mother," he grunted.

He was glad he didn't bring the Jag, looking at the load which grew like topsy. There was the problem of what to do with the three pistols, which didn't get dumped with the bodies as Mack had early suggested. "Waste not want not," Frank offered as his only reason for retaining them. "I'll figure it out later," he thought and tucked them under the front seat, just in case. "OK. A note." He used his left hand scribbling on a piece of loose leaf paper. His outer shirt was tossed and his hair rubbed around until in complete disarray. His blue jeans didn't need any help in looking bad. They were already a mess from the recent farm work.

Bethdale was easy enough to get to, west about twenty minutes away, once on the main roads. Venture Electronics took almost as much time to find as it was poorly labeled for a commercial enterprise. Most of the buildings in the area were warehouses. Venture certainly wasn't an enterprise trying to be noticed. It was a shingled three story corner building with two side alleys, one from each street. Each alley led to the same back utility area which Frank discovered was common to several buildings including those on the opposite rear streets. Within this court, dumpsters were set in a line, each with a label as to which one went with what enterprise. Venture had no dumpster of its own. "Not surprised," Sumner thought, "You don't want your garbage exposed, do you fellows?" The building had about two feet of base cinder block at ground level above which began the cedar shake shingles. Out front you couldn't see the cinder block as it was bricked over with a ledge at the transition to shingle. There were, on the side of the building, the usual fire connections and more than typical electrical lines coming in from the utility poles. Several main level and upper level windows had air conditioners. It was plenty hot today. "Good sound cover," he thought.

Facing the common back area were several basement windows fitted with bars, but not painted over, although the basement was dark . It was hard to see just what was in there. Boxes, mostly. Storage. "Need a hole." Frank studied the window frames first, then noticed that above and to the side of one window, just under a shingle, a space presented itself. The shingle yielded quietly, and there was a drill hole in the structure of the building where an old pipe, maybe a natural gas line, must have entered. It was sealed, but with a soft filler that pulled out easily with his screwdriver. The dumpsters made good cover. He could hear cars go by slowing as they approached the intersection on the side of the building opposite from where he was secreted with his stash.

How to inconspicuously lug the propane here was solved by an empty rubber garbage barrel nearby. Frank put everything in place. The garden hose was connected to the propane tank by way of the bath tub shower fitting. The other end was carefully snaked through the old pipe hole into the basement all the way down to the floor. A few trash boxes moved here and there hid the newly constructed plumbing quite well. Fingerprints were carefully wiped from anything he touched. Right now, everything was ready to go, but not turned on. There was more to do. Much more. "Now the TV."

Venture was situated on the southeast corner of the block. The Explorer was parked on the north side of that block just in front of a warehouse that had an alley which accessed the shared court yard behind Venture. This was a beast of a walk with that not so portable television. He made it even worse. "Let me give you a hand with that door," a big guy offered with a bit of confusion in his voice. "I think you're lost, pal."

"You guys need a bigger sign! Damn. I nearly killed the whole morning looking for this place. I can't afford this. I'm barely squeaking by as it is," Frank was pouring sweat, puffing, and straining as he entered, going way too far inside as the big guy was hollering, "Hey. You can't go there."

"Well give me a hand! I'm gonna explode, here," as he nearly fell over setting his large load down in the middle of the floor behind the same counter which faced the entry and blocked his way until he went around. "Damn! That sucker weighs a ton! Ask me, he should just throw the thing away and get one of the new ones. Why fix a portable that weighs a fucking ton?"

"We don't do walk-in customer work here. We only do industrial.."

"Oh no! NO! NO! NO! I ain't taking this piece of lead back! I've already ruptured my nuts! That bastard didn't pay me enough to bring it here. Lost the whole morning. Why don't you put camouflage on this place?" Pulling the crumpled paper from his pocket, and studying it with extremely labored reading, "You can tell Mr. Price, if he calls, to come here and pick it up himself! You can throw it away for all I care. Bastard cheated me. Just because I ain't smart,.." Frank began mumbling incoherently and rolling his eyes in jerky fits.

"Price?"

"Uh,.." looking intensely at the paper again, "S e e n  Price? Office cross town." After blowing his nose into the paper bearing the badly scribbled directions, he abruptly asked, "Got a Coke machine?" Frank didn't wait for an answer but was wandering into the inner hallway and looking left and right. "Gotta take a piss. Man! Gotta take a piss."

The big guy ran and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him very forcefully toward the door. "We know Mr. Price. We'll take care of it. You want Coke - go down the street. You gotta piss, do it in the alley way."

Frank was bum rushed out bellowing, "A whole fucking morning for ten bucks! Cheap bastard, don't do business with him."

"Get lost," was the returned advice.

There were others in the back rooms, he heard them. "Now to listen," he thought. Besides he was rather drained by carrying that TV two blocks away and and back. Frank didn't want to risk everything on questionable acting skills. Anyway, he brought his own soda along which he thought of as field rations. "Hmmm, what's see what's playing on the radio?