6PM, the Benson apartment

"I'm sorry, I can't," Mrs. Hope Anderson said, accepting a glass of lemonade from her longtime friend Iva Stevenson, who had accompanied her from New Jersey. As she returned to the task of organizing the late professor's belongings, her companion took a sip and continued: "Our development will only accept visitors for days at a time, 14 consecutive max."

"I understand," Don replied quietly, feeling his partner's glance. "Are there any other relatives that can take Olivia?"

"None that I know of," sighed Mrs. Anderson, shaking her head. "My son Bill, who lives in Albany, is single and so devoted to his career that he rarely dates. My daughter Eleanor works and studies in Philadelphia. Besides them, there are some cousins, of course, but they're either like my kids---single and busy---or they're struggling financially or just barely able to make due with their own kids and problems."

"And those are the ones that are suitable," called Mrs. Stevenson, taking a pair of rain boots from near the door.

"Iva, please, stop telling my stories, especially since this isn't our bridge group!" exclaimed Mrs. Anderson. Shaking her head, she told the officers: "She's been doing this since high school."

"My wife does the same thing," Max said, smiling. Then he sobered and asked: "You didn't stay in touch after your grandniece's birth?"

Mrs. Anderson sighed and looked into her glass. "Serena just drifted away. As the years went by, she stopped reciprocating Christmas cards, she called less often and fewer and fewer people. In fact, she stopped visiting after Olivia was born. It was as if she didn't want anyone else. It may have had something to do with her drinking or…maybe she was telling the truth…"

"About what?" Don asked.

The old woman looked away before speaking. "She said she was raped while walking from classes one evening. Someone hit her from behind. When she woke up, it was happening."

Don inquired, "But you seem skeptical."

"Well, she did say she was drunk when it happened," Mrs. Anderson explained. "We in the family often wondered if she had a…one-night stand with someone while intoxicated and made up the story to cover up her… behavior."

"What about the doctor's concerned? Didn't you see her 'zone out' on the examination table?" Max could barely keep his tone polite.

Blushing, the great-aunt replied: "He…could have been wild in his intoxicated state. And she could have been daydreaming to get through the exams. Some young women do that when they see the gynecologist."

"I still do it," called Iva from the kitchen.

"Anyway, if she was telling the truth, she may have been trying to avoid a lot of questions about what happened. And a rape would explain why she drank so much."

"But you said she started after her parents' car accident when she was sixteen," Mrs. Stevenson reminded.

"Yes, that's right." Mrs. Anderson nodded. "Of course, if she were attacked, wouldn't her drinking become worse?"

"It's hard to say," Don said. "Alcoholics drink for a variety of reasons. But, that's all water under the bridge now. Olivia's welfare is the main concern now."

"Well, why can't that nice couple keep her?" Mrs. Anderson took a long drink of her lemonade.

"Nice couple?" Max turned to his partner with a knowing look.

"She means the husband and wife who have been taking care of since the accident," Iva called over the clanging sounds of cookware. "Those two other detectives mentioned them."

9:30Pm, the Cragen Residence

Don sat in the living with Captain O'Farrell, who was also his mentor.

"So, Donnie, are you and Marge sure about this?" the older man asked.

Don nodded. "We discussed the possibility this afternoon after I learned that her aunt lived in a retirement community and that her mother wasn't close with her family."

"And Marge is willing to give up her career?"

"Yes. We've always lived off of my job, mostly," Don said, "so there's…well, let's just say there's room in the budget for one more."

"Then there's the promotion."

"Well, I haven't found a slot open yet, but..."

O'Farrell held up his hands. "No 'buts.' Consider yourself promoted."

"What?" Don was astonished.

"As soon as I heard the rumors, I took the initiative." O'Farrell smiled. "Now, the position wasn't supposed to be available until September, but this captain is a longtime friend as well as a father and grandfather. Plus..."

"What? Why are you so serious all of a sudden?"

"Let's go outside." He stood.

"All right, what is it?" Don asked when they were standing in the backyard.

"Listen, I had Werner and Phillips do a little research for me," O'Farrell said solemnly, "and they found Professor Benson's police statement and medical report. She was definitely raped nine months before Olivia was born."

"Did they ever have any idea who the perp was?" Don asked, frowning.

"No. So this kid has grown up with an absentee scumbag for a father and a drunken 'intellectual' for a mother." O' Farrell looked at Don directly in the eyes before continuing. "We can't prevent every crime, we can't catch every perp, and we can't save every life. But we can give this kid a shot at a better life!"

Don clasped O'Farrell's hand in thanks. "Marge and I will give Olivia a better life. That you---and she---can count on!"

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