Chapter 1
San Jose, California
Sergeant Maxwell Clark sat on a couch in Melissa Boren's office. Melissa sat in a chair writing down what Clark said.
"It was January of 2009," Clark said. "Paul and I were playing one-on-one basketball. I accidentally threw the ball into the street. Paul ran to get it."
Tears fell from Clark's eyes.
"Tissue?" Melissa asked holding out a tissue box.
"Can I have the whole box?" Clark asked.
Melissa handed Clark the whole box.
"Paul went out onto the street and was hit by a party bus," Clark said. "The bus driver didn't even stop. The bus sped up and just kept going."
Clark broke down.
"I got Paul out of the street and immediately dialed 911," Clark cried. "Clark was in a coma for 6 months before he was declared legally brain dead and my parents pulled the plug on June 16, 2009. That was one day after his eleventh birthday."
"How did your brother's death affect you?" Melissa asked.
"In 2010, when I was 15," Clark said, "I swallowed a whole bottle of Benadryl. When I saw a Suicide Prevention PSA on TV, I woke my parents and they took me to the emergency room and I had my stomach pumped."
Clark got up and walked towards the door.
"Sergeant," Melissa said. "We still have 30 minutes of this session."
"It's my choice to be here," Clark said. "I can leave if I want."
"No you can't," Melissa said. "Your boss instructed you to attend these therapy sessions and asked that I report if you leave. If you leave, I will have to report you."
Clark sat down on the couch.
"After my suicide attempt, I was placed in a mental hospital for six months," Clark said. "My parents were afraid I would attempt to kill myself again, so they had me committed."
New York City
Lieutenant Olivia Benson sat at her desk working on some paperwork. Rollins walked into the office.
"Still doing paperwork?" Rollins asked.
"Yes," Benson moaned. "You'd think that being lieutenant, I wouldn't have to do so much paperwork."
Benson's office phone began to ring.
"I swear," Benson said. "If it's more paperwork, I'm going to scream."
Benson answered the phone.
"Special Victims Unit, Lieutenant Benson," Benson said as she answered.
"Olivia," Clark said from the other end of the phone.
"Clark?" Benson asked.
"I need your help," Clark said. "I think I found the person who killed my brother."
"What?" Benson asked.
"I was leaving therapy and saw a man driving a party bus," Clark replied. "The bus looked just like the one that killed my brother 9 years ago."
"Did you go to the police?" Benson asked. "I was informed they reopened the case in San Jose."
"I called you," Clark replied. "I need your help to catch this guy."
"No," Benson said. "It's out of my jurisdiction. Plus, you were placed on leave. I talked to your boss."
"Olivia," Clark said. "Please."
"I'm sorry, Max," Benson said. "Goodbye."
Benson hung up.
A few minutes later, Carisi sat at his desk going over a case file.
"Special Victims Unit," Carisi said. "Detective Carisi."
"Hello, Dominick," Clark said. "This is Sergeant Maxwell Clark of the Long Beach Special Victims Unit."
"What can I do for you?" Carisi asked.
"I need you to assist me with a case," Clark replied. "I need you to come to San Jose. Tell Olivia that you have a family emergency and you need time off."
"I know you were placed on leave," Carisi said. "And I'm not lying to my boss."
"Okay," Clark said. "I'll just tell Olivia that when I was in New York, I saw you having a few drinks at a bar while you were still on the clock."
"Oh, you're good," Carisi said. "Props to you."
