Residence of Rikki Austin and Jared Black, Manhattan, late morning

Connie, Rikki's personal assistant, showed Goren and Eames into a parlor. There Ashley reclined under a silky comforter on a daybed. Despite the room's classical décor and furniture, its occupant was surprisingly (or not surprisingly, considering her reputation) unkempt. Her hair was disheveled, her Ralph Lauren polo shirt was stained (…with the contents of that ice bucket at her side? Bobby speculated.), and her eyes were bloodshot.

"How can I help you, officers?" she asked casually but wearily.

"We're here regarding an incident that occurred last night," Eames began.

"Miss Ashley was visiting friends in Long Island," the p.a. interjected from the doorway, "all night."

"And how is that relevant," Goren inquired, "considering that we haven't given the location involved?"

"Well, you are New York City police officers, so the event must have occurred in one of the five boroughs," she managed smoothly.

"First of all, parts of Long Island are covered by the NYPD," Eames explained firmly, focusing on Connie's eyes, "and second, we haven't given a time frame. So, there are still some questions that she needs to answer."

"Not without one of the attorneys present!"

"Why should you need an attorney, Ms. Black?" Goren asked the teen, raising his eyebrows and cocking his head sideways.

"Please leave now!" The p.a. moved briskly towards them with the obvious intent of escorting them to the front door.

"We'll leave you our cards. Have your attorney contact us when you're ready," Eames stated crisply.

After leaving the items with the girl (who weakly smiled and waved), they departed from the room with Connie. Her silence was mentally noted by both detectives. Not surprisingly, she slammed the door closed as soon as Bobby stepped onto the stoop.

"Not a lot of finesse there," Alex remarked, indicating the p.a. "I mean, usually the help acts steady in the face of incrimination, but the longer we stayed, the more she fell apart."

"I suspect she probably has done a better job with running interference," her partner replied thoughtfully. "However, after all the crises that she's had to handle over the years, she just may be approaching her breaking point. And why did she mention the lawyers before we told her what happened and how Ashley was involved?"

"I think she suspects something-due to something mentioned or overheard, or maybe just because Ashley returned from her slumber party so early-"Eames' cell phone ring cut into her final words.

"There was a hit on a partial print from that cuff link," she said a minute later, quickly leading her partner back to their car. "She's texting the name and address." She opened her door and slid behind the wheel. Once inside, she handed the phone to Goren before taking off.

"Hmm," he said a minute later, "if this is who I think it is, we are going to have a major media storm on our hands."

Office of Captain Dan Ross, One Police Plaza

District Attorney John J. McCoy wasted no time getting to his point. Sitting opposite the captain, he spoke with resolved urgency. "Considering the department's history with one of the probable witnesses, Executive Assistant District Attorney Michael Cutter will take the case! And I'm not just speaking about a fresh start! We're going to be going up against the best lawyers that money can buy. When faced with that caliber of attorney, Cutter has proven to be skillful enough, knowledgeable enough, and yes, when necessary, clever enough to come out on top! So I want your people to give him full cooperation!"

"Yes, Mr. McCoy, they-we will," declared Ross, nodding. "I understand the stakes involved. We don't want the show biz reps to make this into 'poor persecuted Rikki Austin' vs. 'the witch hunting NYPD.' When my detectives report back, I'll give them the 411."

The Stabler residence

Richard was on his bed, lying on his good side to get comfortable. Suddenly, he heard a knock at the door. Sighing, he got up to answer, assuming that it was his mother with another meal. But when he opened the door, he was horrified to see two sinisterly smirking male faces.

"We still know what you did!" shouted one before the merciless onslaught of blows and kicks.

Awaking abruptly, Richard found himself safely alone in his room. But relief was not his. Instead, the haunted youth turned his head to one side and silently cried.