Danny sped to The Blue Moon Motel with lights flashing, siren blaring. Because of the late hour — or early hour — depending on how one chose to see it, traffic was relatively light. He was familiar with the motel. While it wasn't a place he would take Linda, it wasn't a dump by any means. As far as he knew, there was nothing sleezy about it. It had no history of drug or prostitution trafficking.

Why was Baez there? Was she hurt?

The questions raced through Danny's tired mind as he drove. He needed caffeine. Badly. He and Linda had stayed up late, having a much-needed romantic evening alone, taking advantage of the rare occasion of both boys attending sleepovers of individual friends. Not only was he suffering from lack of sleep, the extra bottle of wine opened and emptied was doing a number on his head.

I'm in trouble...I need your help...I messed up...He took my badge...my gun...

Questions continued to flood his head. How had she messed up? Who had taken her badge? Her gun? Was she working a case on her own?

She hadn't answered when he asked if she needed a bus. He was uncertain whether or not to call in for one, knowing the arrival of an ambulance would draw unwanted attention, creating a scene that he hoped could be avoided. He would wait, he decided. If he saw she was in need, then he would call for assistance, even backup if necessary.

He flipped off the flashing lights and siren as he neared. Upon arriving at the motel, he drove slowly past the long row of rooms until he saw the number he was looking for. Fourteen. He parked in the first empty space he found. It was Saturday night; the parking lot was full.

He approached the room with caution. Standing outside the door, he glanced around, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. He suddenly heard laughter coming from the second floor. He stepped back so that he could see the rooms above. A young couple had stepped outside the room two doors down, drinks in hand. Their door still open, he could hear music coming from inside, other voices. Obviously a few friends partying, he concluded. The young couple noticed him immediately.

Waving to them as if nothing was wrong, he said, "How's it going? Nice night."

"It's going great!" the young man replied, raising his drink in the air. "Come join us!"

"Umm...better not. The ol' lady's inside," he said, pointing to the room to the left of the one where he expected to find his partner. "I better get in. Thanks, though. You guys have fun. Just don't get too loud. We old people need our beauty sleep."

"No problem," the young man replied. "Goodnight."

"Night."

Danny stepped back under the cover of the second floor balcony, appearing to go in the direction of the room he pointed to when speaking to the young man above, stepping over to room fourteen once he was sure he couldn't be seen by the couple. The large window of the room was covered by white sheared curtains and then heavier drapes hung over the shearers, but a touch of dim light inside the room shone in the small opening where the drapes didn't quite meet.

With his gun drawn, he knocked lightly on the door, listened for any movement. Hearing nothing, he knocked with only a bit more force, not wanting the couple above to hear and wonder why he wasn't using his own room keycard.

"Baez? You in there?" he whispered.

He barely heard her voice.

"Danny, is that you?"

"Yes. Let me in."

He could hear the chain move, then the click of the lock, then the door opened just slightly. He could see Baez just inside.

"Thank God you're here, Danny," she said as she opened the door wider, allowing him inside, then closing the door behind him, turning the lock, and replacing the chain.

"I'm sorry, Danny, I didn't know who else to call."

Jeez, Maria. What happened? Who did this to you? I'm calling for a bus. We need to get you to a hospital." He reached into his pocket for his phone, but she stopped him before he could make the call.

"No. Please don't. I'm okay."

"You are not okay."

Baez was dressed in a black cocktail dress. It was sexy, fitting snugly in all the right places, but not overly revealing. Her makeup was heavy, but not as much as the night before when she had working undercover with him. Her hair was down as usual, but straighter than normal. The hair was somewhat tousled, but her clothing appeared in tact. He face was what horrified her partner. She had obviously been hit more than once. One eye was red and swollen, bruising slowly taking effect on one side. Her lip was busted, and bleeding. She was holding a wet hand towel in one hand, obviously using it in an effort to prevent more swelling. She was holding one side of her rib cage with the other hand. He expected bruising of them as well. The image of the photo of Juliet Aamond immediately came to mind. Was this the work of Erik Raul, his dad's blackmailer? Had Raul gotten out on bail? He immediately dismissed the idea, knowing his partner would not have entered a motel room with that lowlife scum. Not willingly, anyway.

"Come on. I'm getting you to the hospital. You can tell me what happened on the way. Is this room paid for through the night?"

"Yes, as far as I know."

"Good. I'll send a team over first thing in the morning. Get your shoes, and let's go. Can you walk okay?"

"Yes, Danny. I can walk. But I'm not putting those heels back on."

"Fine."

He picked her three inch Stiletto heels up off the floor. "I never understand how you ladies can even stand up in these things, much less walk in them."

"Yeah, well, we do a lot of things you wimping men could never do. Ever heard of childbirth?"

"Yeah, and what would you know about that?"

"I read. You should try it some time, Reagan."

"Yeah, I'll do that."

"Danny."

"Yeah, what?"

"Thanks."

"No problem, partner. Just remember. You owe me. Big."

Before opening the door, Danny grabbed the maid's sign off the handle, placing it on the outside of the door, turning it to the side that read Do Not Disturb. Then he closed the door behind them, made sure it locked, and helped Baez to his car, carrying her black heels.

XXXXX

His dad was alone in the kitchen when Danny arrived. Linda had asked him to bring over the dessert she had prepared for today's family dinner. She had taken the boys to a party at Chucky Cheese, and would come to dinner straight from there. He had decided to bring the dessert over early.

"Hello, son." Frank said. "Missed you at mass this morning."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Had to take care of something this morning."

"Detective Baez, I assume."

"You don't miss a thing, do you, Dad?"

"No. Not when one of my officers is involved. I'm disappointed I had to hear about it this afternoon from Sgt. Gormley, and not from you this morning."

"Yeah, well, I didn't want to interrupt you."

"Interrupt what?"

"You know..."

"No, I don't know. Care to enlighten me?"

"Whatever you might be doing...with her..."

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, Dad. I'm pretty sure you and Nicole were hitting the sheets at her place at two o'clock this morning."

"Hitting the sheets? Where I spend my nights, what I'm doing, or who I'm doing it with, is none of your damn business, and I sure as hell don't need your permission or your approval. Is that understood?"

"Whatever...you don't have to get all defensive about it."

"I'm not defensive! And don't you roll your eyes at me, Danny. I am your father and I expect to be treated at such, with respect. You got that?"

"I got it, Dad. No disrespect intended."

"Good. Now. You want to tell me what happened with Maria? What's going on?"

"Didn't you read the report?"

"I did. But I can't help but think there is something I should know that wasn't in the report."

"Yeah, like what?"

"That's what I'm asking you, Danny."

"There's nothing more to know than what was in the report. She went to a party last night, hosted by a friend of a friend, she met a guy, had too much to drink, one thing led to another, they ended up in a motel room, he beat her up, knocked her out, took her bag with all her stuff. Her bag was found this morning in the dumpster, right there at the motel. Her keys, ID, credit cards, cash, cell phone, everything still inside. Everything except her badge and her weapon."

Frowning, Frank replied, "So, that would lead us to believe he has plans of impersonating a detective of the NYPD."

"Maybe. The name he gave her, introduced himself as, Troy McConnelly, was fake. According to the host of the party, a Troy McConnelly was an invited guest, but he never showed up. That gentleman did not fit the description of the man that assaulted Detective Baez. And the description Baez gave fits no one the host recalls at the party, or even anyone he knows. And Troy McConnelly is nowhere to be found."

"That's not good."

"No, it's not. And there were no fingerprints in the room or on the bag, other than Baez's and the maid's."

"Wiped clean, huh. So you have nothing."

"Right. Except..."

"Except what, Danny?"

"I don't know. It's probably crazy, but something about this..."

"What about it? Obviously your gut is telling you something? What is it?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"You sure?"

'Yeah, I'm sure."

Danny couldn't shake the idea of Erik Raul being mixed up with this in some way, but he didn't want to mention that to his dad until he had more to go on. At the moment it was nothing more than a hunch. A long shot at best. A gut feeling. But past experience usually proved those gut feelings to be right.

"So how is Maria?"

"About how you would expect. Upset. Embarrassed. Sore. She was released this morning. I drove her to her mom's. She's going to stay with her a few days."

"Good."

Though he knew he shouldn't, Danny couldn't help what he said next.

"This is Nicole's fault, by the way."

"What! What would any of this have to do with Nicole?"

"Let's just say, she put the bug in her ear, if you'll excuse the pun."

"What the hell are you talking about, Danny?"

"What Nicole told Baez about writing her next novel about her."

"What about it?"

"It just made Baez think about her life, and how lacking it was. Socially. She was depressed about it, wanted to add some spice to it."

"So she went looking for it, and ended up in the emergency room in the middle of the night. And you blame Nicole for that! That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth!"

"Yeah, well, I don't think it's so stupid."

"Nicole made one comment, in jest, while under extreme pressure and a bad case of nerves. You cannot possibly blame her for the actions of your partner, who, I might add, is a well-trained, decorated, experienced detective, who aught to know better than to put herself in such a situation. Hell, how many cases just like this has she worked herself? Blaming Nicole is ridiculous, and I'll hear no more of it! And just for the record, Nicole made the comment while doing your job for you, solving your case."

"Is that right?"

"Damn right it is. She put herself in that situation to get you evidence you couldn't come up with yourself. Hell, she even came up with the plan."

"Oh, so I can't even do my job properly. Huh, Dad? Is that what your saying? Want me to turn in my badge?"

"Oh, knock it off, Danny. I'm simply saying you have no right to blame Nicole for what happened to Detective Baez. Baez, and no one else, is accountable for her actions last night, or any other time, and for the trouble that action resulted in. I don't know what your beef is with Nicole, but I expect you to treat her with respect while she is a guest in our home. My home. If you can't do that, then perhaps you should excuse yourself from today's family dinner. Have I made myself clear, son?"

"Crystal clear, Dad. I promise to be on good behavior. I promise to treat Nicole like one of the family. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to check on my partner. See you at dinner."

Knowing how his family often treated one another, Frank received little comfort from his oldest son's promise.