AN: This chapter is brought to your by Starbucks. Have to love them for offering free WiFi . Happy Valentine's Day! I will be back to my internet connection and posting schedule in March. Thanks for sticking with me

Chapter 10: The Catalyst

"How's it going?"

Jo looked up at Frank and tried to conceal her frustration. She shouldn't be working out of fifteen, really she wasn't even sure if she should be the one working this case. If she'd known when she got the call that it was Andy McNally of all people who might be wrapped up in the fire, she would have plead sick. Unfortunately, all Frank had told her on the phone was that one of his officers lived in the building and it was a conflict of interest for Traci Nash and everyone else was busy. Her own case load was light, and frankly rather boring, since she'd transferred from homicide to Fraud so she hadn't hesitated to agree. And now she was in it, the only way to get out of it was to plead conflict of interest, which would mean telling HQ things she was perfectly happy they didn't know. So here she was, sifting through the fire marshal's final report, looking for something, anything, to indicate McNally wasn't to blame so she could get the hell out of there.

"Slow." She snapped, hoping he would take the hint and leave her in peace.

He didn't.

Instead he stepped inside and closed the door. "What does it say?" He asked, nodding towards the documents open in front of her.

She gave him a long hard stare before responding vaguely. "Nothing good."

"Look, Rosati," Frank said in his best Staff Sergeant voice, "I appreciate your discretion, but I need to know what is going on. I'm running short staffed, our numbers are down and McNally's leave is over on Monday. I need to know if I can bring her back."

Jo sighed and pushed out the chair opposite her with her foot. "Take a seat."

Frank sat, watching her patiently.

"It doesn't look good. The smoke detector in her unit was tampered with. There were no batteries in the independent detector in the kitchen, and the building's hard wired system was disconnected inside her unit and in the hall outside." Jo set out the captioned pictures the fire marshal had included with his report one at a time as she listed off their findings. "The fire marshal report indicates the fire started in the over, which matches McNally's story, but they also say even left for an hour on five hundred Fahrenheit, a tray of cookies wouldn't cause that kind of fire. Either the oven was tampered with, or McNally makes her cookies with fire-starter."

Frank ran a hand over his face. "Could anyone else...?"

"McNally said no one much Nash had access to her apartment. I questioned Nash yesterday, she said she went in once, right after McNally went undercover to throw out all of the perishables and hasn't been there since. Building lobby security feed is only kept for about month at a time, but Nash definitely wasn't in the building in the last four weeks." Jo's voice softened, "Look, Frank, I'm doing what I can, but-"

"I know." He interrupted. "That's why I wanted you on this. Keep me posted?"

Jo nodded, gathering the pictures and placing them back in order. "I'm going to need to bring her in again." She said as Frank rose to his feet.

"Keep it quiet?" He asked.

Jo knew what he meant. So far the press hadn't sniffed out that a cop owned the unit where the fire began. The longer they would keep that quiet, the better for both McNally and the service at large. "I'll do what I can." She said, though she wasn't sure how much that would be at this point. Three days in and so far every piece of evidence seemed to point conclusively to McNally. Yet, despite the fact that she had put people in jail for twenty years on less evidence, Jo was reluctant to take the next step. There was something off about the evidence. It was too perfect.

Jo had learned the hard way that perfect was usually anything but. With a frustrated sigh she slapped the file closed and rose to her feet. There had to be something she was missing.

November 2012

St. Catharines, Ontario

"What kind of asshole deals with being rejected by the woman he loves by sleeping with her friend?"

"Most men?" Sarah asked with a warm, teasing smile.

Sam glared at her. He hadn't intended to spill his guts to his sister, but he couldn't say no to her. She'd been through a lot and when she asked him what was wrong, thrusting a tumbler half full of whiskey into his hands, he had told her everything. Besides, it wasn't like he could tell anyone else. He could just imagine Oliver's face if he knew Sam had slept with Gail. His friend had forgiven a lot, but Sam wasn't sure anyone but Sarah could forgive him for this. "Helpful."

"I try." She teased reaching for the nearly empty bottle of Crown Royal. "Are you going to tell her?"

"I have to." He said simply, holding out his glass for a refill.

She smiled at him, all teasing gone from her face. "And that is why you're not like most men. Andy is lucky to have you."

Sam snorted.

"She is."

Sam sank back against the soft leather couch. "She could do better. She should do better."

Sarah watched her brother with narrowed eyes for a moment. He looked tired, and five years older than when she'd seen him last. It made sense. He'd been through a lot in the last couple months. She'd never met Jerry Barber, but she felt like she had; she'd heard so many stories. She knew the loss had hit Sam harder than he would ever admit, perhaps even more than he realized. He had never been much for vocalizing his feelings.

It was her fault. Growing up with a sister who was afraid of everything, Sam had grown up way too fast. He'd been her rock and she would forever be grateful to him. She only wished she could find a way to show him she was okay and that he was allowed not to be once in a while.

He had never let her meet Andy, but she'd know about her long before Sam had ever admitted to dating her. Hearing him calling Andy 'the woman he loves' was definitely a first, even if she'd suspected as much for well over a year.

"Sam, listen to me." She said at last, waiting until his eyes met hers before continuing. "Everyone makes mistakes. You did something stupid, no one is going to argue with that, but one mistake doesn't have to ruin your life." She could read skepticism in his eyes and wondered just what else had happened to make her usually confident and resilient baby brother so afraid to hope. "You had sex with the wrong person, it's not like you killed her dog or burned down her apartment. Tell her. If she's the woman for you, she will get over it."

"And if she doesn't?"

Sarah put down her glass and moved to sit beside her brother on the couch. She snuggled into his side. "You'll always have me."

Sam draped an arm over his sister's shoulders in a half hug. As much as he loved her. He didn't take much comfort in her assurance. There were some voids even the best sister in the world could not fill. The one left in his life without Andy was definitely one of them. Still, he tried to take comfort in her matter of fact view of his idiocy. It gave him hope that it might not be so unforgivable after all. Now if only he knew where Andy was and when he could see her again.

He couldn't help but wonder if she missed him as much as he missed her, as much as he feared the answer was no. He told himself that even if she never wanted to speak with him again, he would be happy just having her back at fifteen, but he knew it was a lie.

April 2013

Sam's townhouse, Toronto

Sam tossed the mop back into the closet with more force than necessary. It didn't ease the frustration coursing through his veins, making him wish he had a punching bag or a target to shoot at. Mopping the floor didn't quite cut it. He couldn't decide whether to thank or curse Nash's timing. On one hand, she had probably stopped them both from doing something they would have regretted, on the other, there were so many things to say and once again, life had come in to pull them apart. At this rate Andy would have her own place and he would lose his chance to show her everything that was in his heart.

He still couldn't believe she'd forgiven him. For months he had been dreading her return as much as he longed for it, sure that the moment she found out she would walk away for good. He would have deserved it. No matter what Sarah had said, he knew his behaviour was reprehensible. But she had said they were okay, and he would have to be a much greater fool than he was to reject that forgiveness.

Now all he needed was a way to show Andy that her trust in him wasn't misplaced. The only problem was that he didn't have the first clue how to do that.

He remembered his desperate rambling five months ago. He'd promised to take out her garbage, walk her dog… Stupid little things. No wonder she hadn't really believed him, no wonder she'd jumped at the chance to leave. He'd been such a fool. Not just then, but almost every day since she had burst through that apartment door and into his life three years ago. There were so many moments he would go back and change if he could, but most of all, he regretted that night. The rainy night he had given up on himself. He knew Andy thought he had given up on her, or worse, blamed her for Jerry, but he knew it was something much more personal than that.

Somewhere along the line, between worrying about Andy's safety, worrying about his own inadequacies, and trying to be something he wasn't sure he was capable of being he had stopped trusting his gut. Because of that, Jerry was dead. He didn't blame Andy, he blamed himself. And somehow, he convinced himself that the only way he could get back to the cop, to the man, he needed to be to deserve her, he had to leave her. No wonder she didn't understand. He wasn't sure he understood it himself.

And then there had been that moment, the moment he realized what a fool he had been to let her get away. Admittedly, his timing could have been better. If he wasn't a complete idiot he might have figured it out weeks, months, years earlier. He loved her. And seeing her, eyes filled with terror, hands holding a bomb so an innocent young girl could get away safely, he hadn't been able to keep it in. He almost hadn't realized what he said until the words were out.

She hadn't believed him.

Why would she? He certainly hadn't acted like he loved her after Jerry's death. He'd done what he had always done, ever since he was nine years old, he locked his feelings away and pretended everything was fine. Now, she was back. She was here. Even after he had given her every reason to run. This was his last chance, he knew, to prove to her that he loved her, always had, always would.

There was one thing he could do. Something he should have been doing with Andy this morning, rather than kissing her, something Jo Rosati had told him to do two days earlier: He could find another suspect.

He picked up his laptop and carried it into the living room. Andy didn't do this. He knew that to the bottom of his soul. If the evidence was saying she did, there had to be something that didn't add up, and Sam wasn't about to leave it to Jo Rosati to figure out what. that was

Jo killed the engine with a flick of her wrist and pulled the keys out of the ignition. She wasn't sure exactly what she hoped to find, but her gut told her there was something she was missing, and so here she was. She stepped out onto the asphalt and almost dropped her keys in surprise. Climbing out of his shiny silver truck not ten meters away was Sam Swarek.

Blood pounding in her ears, Jo set off across the parking lot. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She snapped as soon as she was within earshot.

Swarek had the grace to look caught-out, even if he looked every inch a mutinous toddler more than a chagrined adult.

"You know that if you talk to any of them you could compromise the entire investigation, right?" Jo added.

Sam gave her an incredulous look. "I was one of the responding officers, I'm following a lead."

Jo bit her lip to keep from saying something unprofessional. She couldn't believe him! She remembered the first time she'd met Sam Swarek. She'd been impressed. He as professional and seemed to have done well in the crisis, and she'd naively thought how nice it was to see a TO who still gave a crap about his rookie. She hadn't suspected anything untoward, after all he'd managed to keep his distance the entire time she was at the time scene. But then there was the Laundromat fire... The day she had confirmed a niggling suspicion she had been ignoring, that Sam Swarek was madly in love with his ex-rookie, perhaps even more than he knew. She supposed she should have expected this from him. "Fine." She snapped, "but I am doing the talking. You can stand there, listen and take notes. You open your mouth and I will..." She paused for a moment trying to come up with a threat she was willing to enforce, "tell Frank." She finished lamely.

Sam held up his hands in surrender. "Whatever you say detective."