The following morning, when Beckett picked up Esposito he was somewhat more himself which told him that he was on his way to making things right with Meredeth. 'Feeling better today, Detective?' she asked him, and he nodded.

'Getting there. The strawberry blintzes I brought home last night were a good first step, though Meredeth told me I don't need to give her a gift every day of the week this week since I've already got a plan for her and I on Friday and Saturday. Is Rick going to be available this weekend?'

'Yeah, I think so, why?'

'I'm getting the guys together to puppy proof the house.'

'Oh that's right, Tortuga comes to her new home on Sunday, doesn't she?'

'Yes, she does.'

'Well, hold onto the thought of new puppies and strawberry blintzes because Lanie called and we're meeting her at the morgue for her official final report.'

Esposito nodded, trying to switch into cop mode as they made their way through the plowed streets of Manhattan; they arrived at the morgue just in time to find Shane in the autopsy theatre with Lanie, holding out a box of peppernoten. They both smiled when they saw the cops approach and Shane held out the box to Esposito.

'Biscuit? Alexis was baking on her snow day yesterday.'

'Ooh, sounds good.' Esposito took a cookie, bit in and thought about his wife always baking. 'You don't always expect these from Alexis, do you Shane?'

'Oh, Christ, Espo,' Beckett muttered, making both Shane and Lanie blink in confusion. 'Not more of this.'

'Did I miss something?' Lanie asked quietly.

'No,' Shane answered Esposito's question, 'these are a treat and the fact she makes them for me without me begging, just because they cheer me up, is one of many reasons she's the best.'

'Oh. Okay.'

'You and Meredeth have a fight over her cooking?'

'In a manner of speaking.' Esposito explained it to him and Lanie and Shane both nodded. 'It's- I don't know, it's just got me worried that Meredeth thinks I don't appreciate what she does for me and our family.

'Shit, Javi,' Shane waved it off. 'You are a great husband. You are always texting her little love notes, right? Checking in when you want to hear a friendly voice?'

'Yeah.'

'So? That's what the good husband does. Don't forget for almost a year, the first year Alexis and I were married, we did that all the time because she was studying at Princeton. It's how we always made sure we kept things strong.'

'There, see?' Beckett reached for a cookie. 'Now enough of this or I'll tie you to the grill of my car with razor wire.'

'Noted, Detective.'

'Now that we have our Temptation Lane moments done.' Cookies successfully mooched from Shane, he left while Lanie went to her work bench, held up a file folder. 'Victor Hammond's autopsy report. No other non-prescription drugs in his system. He took a daily tablet to keep his cholesterol in check but he had to lung or heart disease, no signs of liver or kidney failure and no other signs of trauma save for the seventeen stab wounds in his back.'

'Any trace back from the labs? What about the bloodwork?' Beckett asked, nibbling her cookie.

'Blood alcohol indicates a point-zero-zero-five level, and his stomach contents consisted of pasta, creamy tomato bolognaise, garlic bread, Italian red, and his smoothie about five hours later.'

'So he had wine with dinner then his protein shake before bed,' Esposito deduced. 'If we had Elaine here, we could have asked if that's part of his bedtime routine or if the killer would have planted it there for him.

Beckett opened her mouth to speak, then stepped into the hallway when her cellphone rang. Alone with his friend, Esposito sighed heavily. 'We really need to find Elaine Hammond. She has the majority of what we need to know, those little nuances of his personality only a wife knows.'

The misery in his voice was so loud and clear that Lanie had to take a minute to compose herself and her thoughts carefully. 'Javier,' she told him quietly. 'You are not Victor Hammond. I've read reports that as much of a class-act he is, he did have problems with his wife.'

'Everyone goes through tough times in their marriage.'

'Really, well, did you know that he apparently gives her an allowance for the household and she keeps only the leftovers for herself to have a life, that he pays for everything?'

'Where do you hear these things, Lanie?'

'Gossip sites, topic forums. Slow nights in the lab means time well wasted on the Internet. I file it away to ask Meredeth, my to-go guru of all things pop culture,' Lanie told him with a smile. 'You, on the other hand have been dedicated to Meredeth from day one, we all know that, there is no-one in the world you look at like you do your wife. I know because my husband looks at me the same way. Hell Dave even keeps personal photos of me on his phone.'

'I keep personal photos of Mere and the kids on my phone too. Digital bragbooks are way easier than hard copies these days.'

'No, I mean,' she chuckled, 'Dave keeps personal photos of me on his phone.'

'Oh. Oh, Lanie!' Esposito winced. 'I don't need to think about you naked and posing for Dave! You're my friends, both of you! It's bad enough Ryan walked in on me and Meredeth making Tessi, I don't need to-'

'Judging from that reaction, I'm going guessing you have pictures like that of Meredeth on your phone too, right?'

'Well, sure but...oh...okay, very crafty Doctor Parrish-Robbins.' He wagged his finger at her as she grinned wickedly. 'Okay so that's three in the yes column.'

'There you go.'

Beckett swung back in, grinning as widely as Lanie. 'God bless Roman Moore,' she all but trilled, 'we have a line on the roofies. What were you two talking about?'

'Photography. I was thinking of having some family pictures and asking Esposito how much Sloan charges,' Lanie blithely covered, though she and Beckett both knew it was a fib just to keep everyone happy and focused on the job. 'It's all on her website?'

'Yep, under 'Packages and Promos'. All regular prices are listed there.'

'Great. Now if you two liars are done,' Beckett told them, the grin never faltering from her face, 'we have a drug-dealer to arrest for accessory to murder.'

Roman Moore had pulled through in fine style in his description of the drug dealer known as Gandalf - they'd gotten him in with Adam looking through mug-shot books and had picked out one Thomas Jeremiah 'Jed' Callow IV, old real estate money from the Upper West Side who was a junior at Hudson University's business school. He was on track to being an MBA and junior VP of the family business before he hit twenty-five.

Of course, the fact he was being dragged in on murder charges to a downtown police precinct might put a crimp in that, Esposito thought, and Roman had been dead accurate in his description; the kid had sandy blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and teeth he was certain were bonded they were so white. The kid had white-boy swagger stamped all over his face, but two could play that game.

He went in ahead of Beckett, giving her time to let Captain Karpowski see them in action for this one, and slapped Jed's record file down. Esposito pulled out the chair, turned it backwards as he stared Jed down.

'So, Jed, tell me,' he asked calmly, almost casually like an afterthought, 'where's Elaine Hammond?'