Part Eight

#####

She awoke on Sunday morning with one thought in her head. Church. She hadn't bothered in years and wasn't even sure she believed in anything anymore, but she remembered all too clearly what had crossed her mind when she'd been afraid for her life. If there was a god and he really did love her like the pastor said, then she figured she should make an effort.

If for no other reason than to have a good opportunity to ask him for another favor. A big one.

Taylor's face was less than pleased when she announced they were going to church. And when he complained that they hadn't gone in years, Carter only needed to point out that they were going to need a lot of help to get John back to get Taylor to agree. Her son questioned her again when she led him to the Lincoln, rather than the NYPD cruiser she'd been driving forever. Rather than reveal her choice to quit, she told him it was a long story, one that she decided she'd tell him after she found out if it had a happy ending.

After church, which she had to admit made her feel a bit better, maybe because she could almost convince herself "someone" else would be looking out for John, she dropped Taylor off at a friend's and returned to Norton's place. Norton was already on the phone when Carter activated the program, listening as Mr. Mitchell, the same client from the night before, yelled about needing his medicine. Carter could hear the woman's frustration as she tried to calm him down, while also gently reminding him that she'd just brought him all his prescriptions the week before. When the Mitchell's anger gave way to frustrated tears, Norton broke down, promising she'd be right there.

Carter felt bad as Norton begged her neighbor to watch the kids for a few hours while she ran to work. She tailed Norton to the pharmacy, listening in as she fought with the pharmacist about early refills. Empty handed, Norton went to her client's house, trying to explain the situation and offering to help him locate the missing pills. The pair scoured the house, Norton eventually accepting that the pills really were gone.

And that was when Carter realized Finch might be onto something with this woman, begrudgingly accepting that Finch and John were usually right about the people they watched.

Norton was questioning Mitchell about what could have happened to his pain medicine, pointedly asking if Mitchell's son had been by for a visit. Mitchell scoffed at the suggestion, but eventually admitted that his son had been there and that the pills had been there prior to the visit. Norton said she was going to contact the police if Mitchell didn't confront his son.

From her vantage point across the street, Carter watched as Mitchell reached for his phone. She texted Finch and asked if he could get ears on the conversation. Norton was sitting in her car, on the phone to Mitchell's doctor, begging for a medication refill until she could contact the police. With Finch reported that he could only listen in if she had placed a bug in the house. He did, however, agree to see what information he could find on this precious son who seemed to be the source of the trouble.

She sighed and darted across the street, hoping like hell none of the neighbors saw her lurking in the bushes as she tried to get close enough to the window to overhear the conversation Mitchell was having. As luck would have it, the man was hard of hearing and thus spoke louder than needed. Most of his words were muffled, but Carter got the gist of it. Rather than the police, Mitchell had called his son to complain about his missing pills.

Norton climbed out of her car, forcing Carter to duck down further to avoid being seen, scratching herself across the cheek on a branch. She cursed under her breath and acknowledged that perhaps there was some merit in bugging everyone rather than lurking around bushes. As soon as Norton went back inside, Carter returned to the car and listened in as Norton reported that the doctor would order additional medicine for a few days, but that he would require a police report before he did it again. Mitchell understandably bristled at the suggestion of reporting his son, but by the time Norton left to go to the pharmacy, he'd agreed there was no other option.

Carter waited in the car outside the pharmacy for Norton. Her phone rang and she picked it up, hoping Finch was calling with something more important to her than Norton and her clients.

"I found some information on Nick Mitchell. Forty-nine, divorced twice, about fifteen years in arrears on child support, has been unemployed for several years now. He's had a few run-ins with the law."

"Let me guess - pops for drugs, DUIs, petty theft, maybe armed robbery?"

She could hear the smile in Finch's reply. "Yes, exactly. How did you-"

"I've seen it before. People with lifelong drug problems that never get clean and specialize in making their family's life worse." She pulled to a stop half a block away from the Mitchell residence, watching as Norton climbed out of the car once again, this time with the prescription in her hand.

Movement from across the street caught Carter's attention. A thick figure, dark coat, hood obscuring his face, a flash of metal in his hand.

"Call the police, Finch, I think he's trying to graduate to murder." She was out of the car and running at full speed, only realizing halfway to Mitchell's door that she had no gun or shield or handcuffs. Shit.

As the younger Mitchell burst through his father's door, brandishing a gun and yelling about getting rid of the bitch who was trying to turn him in, Carter slowed her pace a bit. Without a weapon - or any hope of the police arriving in time - she only had the element of surprise. As she snuck in during the confusion, she looked for something in the house she could use as a weapon. The senior Mitchell and Norton were both screaming, Norton trying to protect her client without realizing that she was the intended target.

Nick was ranting, his greasy hair unkempt, his clothes filthy. Carter knew he was high and therefore capable of anything. Besides an umbrella and a pair of old running shoes, however, she wasn't having much luck finding anything of value in the hall. She eased open a closet, hitting pay dirt when her hand closed around a baseball bat.

It wasn't as useful as a gun, but it would have to do. Coupled with surprise, she might actually get the upper hand. She gripped the bat and moved forward as quietly as she could. Nick was holding the gun on Norton, who was crying, swearing that she wouldn't call the cops and that she would get him help and that everything would be just fine. Her eyes locked on Carter when she tiptoed around the corner. Carter put a finger to her lips, hoping that Norton wasn't too scared to obey the silent command.

Nick caught on before Norton could turn her eyes back, his body spinning around and his weapon aiming at Carter.

So much for the element of surprise. She swung the bat at his arm first, making contact and sending the gun flying. She swung again, trying to knock Nick's legs out from under him. He dove for the gun at the same time, but luckily Norton had snapped out of her stupor and managed to grab it first. She pointed it at Nick, demanding that he not move.

There were sirens coming closer, turning onto their street. Carter wrapped the hem of her shirt around the bat, wiping away her prints. She smiled at Norton. "The cops will be right here, you've got this under control." She waited for Norton to nod. "I was never here, ok?" Norton nodded again. Carter hurried back the way she'd come, pausing to wipe her fingerprints off the door knob on the closet. Racing into the back yard, she hopped the fence and hid behind the neighbor's trash cans while the officers raced inside.

She was smiling to herself as she made her way around the far side of the neighboring house, realizing for the first time what a tremendous rush it was to play Robinhood, of a sort at least. No wonder John put up with Finch. Doing that sort of thing and saving someone's life and knowing there was no paperwork involved was damn near enough to make her put up with Finch.

Her phone, which she'd dropped on the seat of the car when she'd gone running, was still open. She picked it up, watching as Nick Mitchell was lead to the back of a police car in cuffs. "One degenerate junkie is headed to jail. And two innocent people are safe. Mission accomplished."

"Good work," he paused awkwardly as he searched for something to call her. He opted for nothing in the end.

"So, I helped you. Now, John."

"My opinion on having the man disappointed in me hasn't changed. Go home. I'll let you know when we have a new nu-client."

She wondered what he'd been about to say. She wondered if he'd ever slip further and give her any real information about his operation. Though she was perpetually curious, she knew pressing Finch wouldn't get her anywhere, at least not on that matter, but that was something she could work on in the future. John's situation, on the other hand, needed to be resolved before it resolved itself in a way none of them would like.

"No, Finch, I want to talk about it now."

He let out a breath. "You wanted to know if I had a plan. I do. I'm afraid you'll simply have to wait and see how it goes."

Excitement and hope and worry and fear all crowded into her veins. "I want to help."

"I'm afraid that's not possible, and even if it were, I would not allow it. I made a promise, you remember."

Carter wished he were there so she could glare at him. "I don't need to be protected. I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions and accepting the consequences."

"I have no doubt that you are self-sufficient. To be perfectly honest, I've argued the same point more than once with Mr. Reese. He's quite unreasonable on the subject."

She filed that away for later consideration. "Look, we both know I can help. I took care of this mess this afternoon, didn't I? And hell, no one got shot. No one's even bleeding. I can take care of myself."

"I am aware of that, but I gave my word-"

"Now who's being unreasonable?"

"If it makes you feel better, I promise I'll try not to enter into such agreements in the future."

"I can deal with John being protective. He legitimately has more skills than I do, so it makes sense. You, however, no, that's just different and wrong too." Not to mention that it was entirely endearing and sexy as hell when John protected her. She doubted Finch would appreciate hearing that.

"Yes, I can understand that. Mr. Reese puts a lot of stock in a man's - or woman's - word and prides himself on keeping his. I have given him mine, so my answer is not going to change." He paused for a moment. "Perhaps you should discuss the subject with Mr. Reese so that we might avoid ever having this conversation again."

"Fill me in on your little plan and I'll tell him now."

Rather than reply, Finch hung up and Carter hurled her phone across the car in frustration. Dammit. If there was a plan to rescue John, she wanted to be involved. Not just to soothe her guilty conscience, but so that he knew how much the whole thing had hurt her. She wanted him to know how much he meant to her, how far she was willing to go to get him back, how convinced she now was of feelings she hadn't even realized existed before he'd kissed her.

Feelings she suspected he'd had, and known about, for some time now.

She wanted to make up for that lost time. But it didn't look like she had any choice besides sitting back and waiting, like Finch had told her.

#####

Taylor wasn't home when she got in so she decided it was time to return one of the ten messages Fusco had left for her. She almost laughed when she got his voice mail. "Hey, Fusco, it's me. Sorry for not calling, but I-uh, yeah, I just needed some time. I was serious about the resignation. Go ahead and give it to Womack. I'll catch you later. We can grab a beer or something. No raw eggs, I promise."

She disconnected the call and set the phone down on the kitchen counter, her breath catching in her throat when she turned around and found Taylor behind her. "Jesus, you scared me! I didn't hear you come in."

"You resigned?" He looked shocked and hurt too, probably that she'd made such a huge decision without even mentioning it to him first.

"I didn't plan to do it, Taylor." She shook her head and reminded herself that her son was mature enough to handle the truth. "After this whole thing with John, I just couldn't face going back there. They were talking about giving me a medal for arresting him."

Taylor nodded thoughtfully. "So what are you going to do?"

"I have no idea." Once John was back, and she had to keep telling herself he would be, she knew Finch wouldn't need her around anymore. "This is why I always tell you to think things through before you act."

"What about going back to being a lawyer? You take those courses every year, right? Might as well use them."

With a wide grin, she crossed the room and hugged him. "Yeah, T, that's a good idea." She'd all but forgotten that she was still up-to-date on her CEUs, her credentials as a lawyer were valid. With no experience, she'd have a terribly boring job at first, but it was something to fall back on.

Taylor pushed away. "Ok, that's enough of hugging, mom."

Carter kept smiling. "I raised a brilliant son."

And that evening, as she was trying to sleep and thinking of John once again, she realized that her law degree had solved a second problem as well. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.