Even though he was looking down into the top layer of newspaper and crockery as Adam talked, Richard couldn't help nodding at the other man's admission. "I know exactly what you mean," he said, unwrapping a glass loaf pan and looking up with a conspiratorial grin. "It's the only reason to go jogging through the nice part of Chicago at night. That, and the added bonus of not getting mugged." He put aside the pan, not much caring where it went. If he remembered how he had packed, the next piece was going to be the real doozy.
"As for PR," he added, digging down and tossing several pages of the Tribune onto the floor, "I've done both. They haven't said as much, but I'm guessing this job is going to be a lot of damage control. Because, you know. Life insurance." He unwrapped the next bulky object and found a coffee pot. Not what he was looking for.
"What about you, Adam? EMT, I got that from the uniform. Do you box too, or do people just not like having their lives saved?" Both hands still in the box, he nodded at Adam's bruise.