Evan Carwell stared hard at the sketch posted on the<em>Be On Lookout</em>board inside the staff offices. He craned his head to the right, and then left, squinting under the brown cap crushed down on his head, as if puzzling out some sort of question. "Hm. He gave me a double chin." His eyebrows climbed up his head for a moment. It added ten pounds to his face, at least. A woman's voice cut in from behind him; "Why isn't this thing working?"<br/>"Keep trying," Carwell chimed. He carefully pulled the pin away from the page and back into the corkboard. His fingers dextrously folded the paper as he turned to face the only other occupant in the room- a younger woman, in managers clothes, fiddling with an electronic UPS delivery signature pad. His hand slipped into the brown, unbuttoned shirt, tucking the folded sheet under his arm. He advanced on the woman, shifting the pad around. "Oh, jeez. Forgot to hit this button," he admonished himself briefly, rolling his thumb over the pad for a moment. He sensed the woman roll her eyes behind his back. He only offered the woman a small grin, handing the pad back to her.<br/>By the time he'd left through the back door, he'd removed his hat and the brown shirt tucked into the dark-colored pants- wearing a white t-shirt, a note, and a coil of wire with no less than three portable hard-drives hanging from their own cords, as well as a display case of jewelery. The former was for a favor- the latter, for a plan somewhere in the future. Both were relatively worthless compared to his last visit, and he pondered briefly if he should have tried to get the woman's number, too as he packed the items in his shirt before tying it into a bundle.<br/>He circled around the side and walked right past the row of benches, brimming with happiness. No hitches, no victims, and best of all- No one would suspect a thing until he was long gone.