Clint Rojas stepped out of the shower and began towelling off.

A floorboard creaked in his living room.

The LeSauvage mob must be making their move! And like an idiot he’d left his helmet out there! But he had no intention of going down without a fight.

He grabbed his plunger and pulled off the rubber suction-cup end. A wooden stick is better than nothing.

Wearing a bathrobe and holding the stick, he burst into his living room.

It was the beekeeper, the old woman, and the man who robbed the mobsters.

“We could use your help,” the beekeeper said.