Detective Mike Logan handed EADACutter the copies of the visitors log at Sing Sing Prison.

"Looks like McCoy's onto something."Logan said as Cutter read the highlighted passages. "Bruner's last six visits were from associates of the Esparza crime family."

"Have you and Green been able to locate any of them?"

"Yeah, Ed and I interviewed Ramon Prado this morning – the guy Suffolk County linked to Prescott's missing gun. He admitted Bruner had passed on orders from Esparza to go through the house for whatever they could use to incriminate Prescott. He also gave us the name of Valenski's actual shooter."

Cutter gave Logan a sideways glance while he guffawed.

"What did you guys promise him for that," Cutter demanded as he moved Logan's coffee cup out of reach of the detective,"or should I be expecting to hear allegations of police brutality before Connie can even get Prado arraigned?"

" Cute. We promised the usual," Logan replied shrewdly. "A house in the Hamptons, hot and cold running girls, and an unlimited stash of drugs. What do you think we offered? We offered him full immunity and relocation out of state if the principals are convicted. All contingent on approval from your office."

Cutter slid the cup back to Logan.

"Nice to hear. There for a second, I thought you'd gotten yourself a law degree."

"No chance of that, counselor," Logan said with a grin. "I like being able to look in the mirror in the morning. Besides I wouldn't want to put you and McCoy out of business."

"I'm sure Jack will sleep better when I give him the news."

"So where do things stand for Prescott? Ed tells me Judge Bradley granted the defense a short continuance."

Cutter nodded.

"That's right. In light of the new evidence, as well as Jack's stabbing, Bradley gave Dworkin seventy two hours to bring him new evidence. Continuance is up at three p.m. today. With what you've brought me, I'm sure Jack will advise me to present the Judge with a motion to drop the charges against Prescott and refile the charges when you have the shooter Prado named in custody."

Logan turned as they heard a tap on the door. Both men stood up as Brooke Prescott cautiously opened the door to Cutter's office.

"Mike, I'm sorry," she said as she began to back out of the room. "The receptionist was away from her desk. I didn't realize Detective Logan was-"

"No, no Brooke," Cutter said motioning to the chair beside Logan. "Your timing couldn't be better. Logan here was just bringing me up to speed on-"

"Excuse me counselor," Logan said uncomfortably. "I know the case is on its last leg, but discussing evidence in an ongoing investigation with a civilian-"

"Perfectly legitimate concern, detective," Brooke said as she sat down and crossed her legs. "However, I am not here as the defendants wife or the DA's girlfriend. I am here at the request of the Suffolk County DA. It appears some of the principals in the Valenski case committed crimes in Suffolk County to further this conspiracy. My DA wants an update from the Manhattan office."

As the two men took their seats Logan smiled apologetically.

"My mistake."

"We all make them, detective. So what's the good word on Mark Bruner," Brooke asked as she reached down to retrieve a legal pad and pen from her briefcase.

"So see if I've got this right," Brooke said nearly an hour later. "When we put all the pieces together it looks like this: Esparza heard about Valenski's appeal. He knew if Valenski was back on the outside, he would be a real threat to Esparza's drug and prostitution business in New York County. So, he decides to kill two birds with one stone. He uses what he knows about Sam being alive to make the hit look like Sam could be responsible. Thus, getting revenge on both Sam and myself. When he looks for a decoy to pass information to his men on the hit, he hooks up with Bruner. Bruner fills Esparza in on his grudge against Jack and the two cut a deal. Bruner will pass on the information and if Esparza's sick little hunch is right, that the three of us will eventually put enough together to try to confront him, Esparza will shank Jack if the opportunity presents it self," Brooke said, shaking her head in disbelief.

Logan sighed as he turned to her. Logan had warmed up to the Suffolk ADA within the first five minutes of listening to her speak and well as watching her speak.

"Listen Brooke, it does sound pretty twisted. But you know as well as Cutter and I do these Mafioso types are pretty sick puppies."

"Agreed," she said with amusement. "But so much was left to chance. The gun, the chances of Jack even being in the room. I don't know. It's going to be a tough sale at trial, even with Prado's cooperation."

Logan's eyes widen. He opened his mouth to ask a question and then closed it, as he seemed to falter.

"Detective," she said curiously. "You seem to have gone shy on us."

Brooke reached over and placed her hand on his forearm while Cutter watched the scene with quiet amusement.

"Now, Mike. May I call you Mike? Jack's told me enough about you that I know, shy is not a word most people use to describe Mike Logan. Just say what you want to say."

Cutter laughed in spite of himself as Logan turned several shades of red.

"I was going to say I might not be such a great idea for you to be prosecuting the case yourself, given you connection to Esparza and some of the others."

"You're right again, detective. I won't be. My superior, Mr. Renard, will be the lead on this case and ADA Cohen will be second chairing. My superiors knew I had personal business to attend to in Manhattan, so they asked me to handle this meeting. I'll be turning my notes over to the lead when I return to Islip."

Cutter handed Brooke the file he'd been reviewing.

"Your copies of the lab work, statements, etcetera. If you won't be involved in this case, I assume you'll have some equally big fish to fry."

Brooke shrugged her shoulders as she gathered her things.

"Not of a professional nature," she said, this time her cheeks were the ones glowing."I have a meeting to sign papers in your civil litigations department; can you tell me which floor that's on?"

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Sam Prescott watched as Brooke took a seat across from him in the second floor conference room. As the mediator went through the stack of papers, the pair periodically nodded. Occasionally one of them would correct a mistake on the list of assets to divide. This silver pocket watch belonged on his list, not hers. Her mother's antique dressing table should have been on her list, not his. The minor, painstakingly trivial items that were necessary evils when a marriage was dissolved.

"All right," the nervous looking man that sat at the head of the small table said with a sigh. "That takes you both through the property. Now, Mr. Prescott, you're still in agreement regarding the sale of said property and the distribution of said assets after New York Life has been paid in full-"

"No," he said stubbornly. "I have repeatedly told Mrs. Prescott I want to take sole responsibility for that debt. In fact, if I have to tell her again, I'm not gonna sign the damn papers."

The younger man's eyes widened as he turned to gauge Brooke's reaction. Brookes flipped through the pages and nearly threw her copy across the table.

"And what hell is this," she demanded as she glared back at Prescott. "I told you the grounds I agreed to are irreconcilable differences. To claim desertion under the circumstances would be vindictive and petty, neither of which I am."

"Then prove at and stop splitin' hairs."

The back and forth banter continued, each remark escalating both the volumes and the emotions of the participants. Finally, Prescott turned to the now petrified mediator and commanded him to 'Vamoose.'

The mediator looked to Brooke for assistance. She nodded and pointed to the door.

"We won't be long, Jason."

"Why the hell would that kid care how long we yell at each other? He's bein' paid by the hour. We could be finance his early retirement if you keep bein' so damn stubborn," Prescott said as the door closed.

"You can save the bravado for when Jason comes back. You know all it does is just annoy the hell out me," she replied as she picked up the packet. "I'm not signing papers that say you deserted me and I'm not letting you start a new life with debt that will make it impossible for you to survive."

"I don't want you to lose the house," he said firmly. "If we call it desertion you have a better chance at the insurance company taking a partial payment. You talked to a lawyer. I know I'm right."

Brooke sighed as she looked into the eyes that met hers. Eyes that were tired and defeated. It was a look Prescott had maintained since the morning they made love. The morning they made love and his wife's love for Jack Mc Coy was confirmed beyond any doubt – reasonable or not.

Prescott had heard her words, although at the time, he chose to indulge himself in a few more minutes of his own precious fantasy. When he finally had opened his eyes, the look on Brooke's face had left no doubt in his mind that she was no longer his.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry Sam," she had said over and over again in almost a prayerful chant. Each time the words cut a little deeper into his heart.

By the time he had gotten over his shock she was gone. She had dressed in frenzy without stopping to brush her hair or shower. He could feel her desperation as the front door had slammed and felt powerless to do anything to stop it.

By the time she had returned to him, it was dark. When she quietly tapped on the door of the guest room he had hoped she was ready to talk about the future. Instead, she tightly held herself, refusing to leave the doorway, as she filled him in on what she, Cohen, and McCoy had discussed. Upon hearing she'd seen McCoy, Prescott's patience had given out. Angry, hurtful words flowed from his mouth. His usually fiery and spirited wife standing and doing nothing but holding herself finally silenced him. Seeing her look like a victim, instead of the fighter he'd always known her to be, made him weep afterwards.

But the final blow. The blow that had made him initiate divorce proceedings occured at the prison. Although everyone involved had been in a panic when Jack McCoy was laying helpless have the stabbing, Prescott could see what he had missed on the courthouse steps,the day he had been shot. The look on her face as if life itself would stop the second Jack McCoy seized to exist.

"Sam," Brooke said with concern in her voice. "I know this is awful. Maybe we should slow down and do this after-"

Prescott refocused on the papers that sat in front of him, finally looking back up at Brooke.

"Darlin' you know I'd stay married to you as long as you wanted me to. But the plain truth is, you found love again. If I stay married to you, it'll only destroy what we had. My God, look at us," he said waving a hand at the papers. "I don't think we yelled this much the entire time we were together. I want it done. I want to get out of your way and let you take things with McCoy as far as you see fit."

"Sam, you've never been in my way," she said reaching for his hand. "Even if I had never met Jack,you and I still would have a lot to face after-"

"Yeah, I know. Five years is a long time. Maybe, after awhile…after I get settled on Albany…what ever happens I'm here for you Mal," he said as he patted her hand. " Whatever you need when McCoy drives you to distraction, you call me. But for now, let's just get this thing done. I'm due in the trial part at three."

"I figured we'd walk over together. I know the motion to dismiss is just a formality, but I'd still like to see Judge Bradley grant it," Brooke said.

She noticed the way Prescott looked downwards. It took a moment for Prescott's discomfort to register. Brooke lifted his chin and waited for an explanation.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," he finally responded awkwardly. "It means a lot to me that you want to be there. But, you see…actually it was Randy's idea and you know how he is when is gets an idea..."

Brooke waited, gesturing for him to continue, as he curiosity got the best of her.

"Aw hell... I have a date," he blurted out.

Brooke laughed at his discomfort, not quite sure how to react to his admission.

"Well, good luck," she said at last. "I don't know why I'm surprised. You are a signature away from being a free man."

Prescott cheeks reddened.

"Well that's not quite true, but Randy seems to think it's high time I dove back into the single end of the pond."

"Well, if it gets serious, you know the ex has to give the new woman the treatment," she joked.

"Well," he said with a sigh."We will cross that bridge when we come to it."

"So, who is the lucky lady?"

"Well, I s'pose I better tell you before McCoy gets wind of it," he grumbled."The lady in question seems to be a friend of his. Apparently, she's one of the few women that he's had occasion to work with, that he hasn't charmed," Prescott said wink.

Brooke softly laughed as she mentally flipped through a list of women she knew to be McCoy's former assistants. Suddenly her jaw dropped and her eyes grew wide.

"Mal, what are you thinkin'?"

"You're going out with Abbie," she said uncertainly.

This time Prescott laughed, as well.

"Come on – Abbie Carmichael? She's young enough to be my daughter! No, this lady is a defense attorney. Real spit fire the way Randy tells it."

"Going over to the other side of the aisle are we? Now, you have to tell!"

"My God woman, you sound almost as excited as Randy. Her name is Danielle," he said thoughtfully. "Danielle Rose-"

"Melnick?"