Don shook his head in disbelief after Liz and David filled him in. "You have been busy. Has Mrs. Agincourt had anything to say?"

David said, "Just that she wants her lawyer. That seems to be a common theme in this case."

"What impression did you get of her?"

"I think she's in charge of the operation. Catalino said she wanted the printout of the Van Gogh. She's probably cleaning up after her son."

"Sounds like it," Don said, nodding. "You said she seemed upset when you told her Fred had been shot? You think she's a good enough actress to pull that off?"

"Nah. I think she was surprised and upset. We might be able to use Charlie's prisoner's dilemma thing to get her to testify against Francis."

Don glanced at his watch at the mention of his brother. "Why hasn't Colby called to let us know how Charlie's doing?"

Liz pulled out her cell phone. "I'll find out... Colby?... Liz... How's Charlie doing?... Okay... Yeah, Don was wondering... Well, actually we were all wondering... Tell him we'll see him later, okay?" She ended the call and turned to Don. "They just brought Charlie back from x-ray. Your dad and Colby are with him now, but they won't know anything more 'til the doctor comes back in. He said to tell you the doctor is an acquaintance of yours – Dr. Torre."

Don smiled. "He's a good man." He grew serious again. "Did Colby say anything about how Charlie's doing?"

"He's in some pain. I guess he was kind of cranky at the x-ray technicians because they kept moving his arm around."

"That's a good sign," Don said with a grin. "He must be feeling okay if he's up to being cranky. Sorry, let's get back to the case. David, you mentioned getting Felicia to testify against Francis. You think you can handle that?"

"Yeah," David said. "When I get back to the office, I'm going to start doing a background check on Felicia. She must have had some plan in mind to get rid of those art works, and from what Ben said, they're not that easy to market. I'm assuming she has some kind of connection in the art world."

"Sounds like a reasonable assumption to me," Don said with a nod. "These thefts don't seem to be the work of someone stupid."

--

Dr. Torre knocked and entered the exam room again, holding a large envelope of x-rays. He put the films on the viewer. "Well, Charlie, I've got good news, bad news and more good news."

Charlie opened his eyes and lifted his head. "That sounds encouraging. Except for the bad news."

"Well, first, Andrea's going to give you something more effective for the pain." He pointed at a shadow on the x-ray. "There's a crack in your humerus and a few stray bone chips, but nothing that warrants surgery. I'm just going to stitch you up, pump you full of intravenous antibiotics tonight and tomorrow, and then send you home with a brace for your arm. And given the percentages in the general population, It's my theory that you're right handed."

"Yes, I am. Too bad I didn't get hit in the left arm."

"It's only in movies where the good guy consistently gets shot in his non-dominant arm. In my experience, Murphy's Law takes effect. Righties hurt their right arm, and lefties their left. The bad news is that unfortunately, you're going to have to learn how to do things with your left hand for a few weeks. Between the soft tissue damage and the cracked bone, you risk doing more damage to the arm if you use it."

Andrea entered the room and held up a syringe. "Charlie, Dr. Torre says you can have the good stuff now. You ready?"

Charlie smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

"It's going to make you drowsy," Dr. Torre said. "Do you have any questions for me before we proceed?"

"When can I go back to work?"

Alan sighed, "Charlie, you really need to rest. You've been shot!"

Charlie ignored Alan and kept looking at Dr. Torre.

The doctor smiled, "Far be it from me to get involved in a family dispute, but I would say you have to listen to your own body, Charlie." He chuckled as he caught sight of Alan rolling his eyes. "I take it from your father's reaction that you tend to ignore your body's signals. So I'll give you some guidelines. You have to realize that you've suffered a trauma not just to your arm, but to your whole system. Gunshot wounds get infected very easily, so your body's resources are going to be strained as they fight infection. The pain will wear on you more than you realize now. You'll find yourself getting tired easily. That's a sign that you need to step back and let your body recover. Then, you'll have the issue of retraining your brain."

"How so?" Charlie asked, his interest piqued.

"Well, I assume you're aware that the left side of the brain tends to control the right side of the body." He continued when Charlie nodded, "Now that your right arm is injured, the right side of your brain is going to have to step up to the plate and start working with your left hand to take over the functions of your injured arm. And, since you're a mathematician, and right handed, I'm guessing that the right side of your brain has gotten flabby. It's going to have to do more work than it's accustomed to, and that will be a drain on your body as well."

A smile had spread across Charlie's face. "I'm studying the mathematics of the brain. It'll be interesting to get some hands-on experience, so to speak. This is going to be interesting."

Dr. Torre chuckled. "I'll check back with you in six weeks, and you can tell me how interesting it's been. You ready for the painkillers?"

But Charlie was staring at his own left hand, flexing the fingers. Alan glanced at Dr. Torre. "You might as well give him the drugs now. He's off in his own mathematical world."

Andrea inserted the syringe into the port in Charlie's IV. She and Dr. Torre began collecting equipment. As Dr. Torre washed his hands and put on latex gloves, he explained, "Once the painkillers take effect, I'm going to unwrap the arm, and clean out the wound. Then we'll take a few stitches in the entry and exit wounds and wrap him back up. I'll put a removable brace over the bandage to protect the bone from shifting."

Colby cleared his throat. "I'm going to go to the waiting room and call Don. He's probably climbing the walls waiting to hear from us."

"Good idea," Alan said. "It sounds like he's going to have a roommate for the night."

Dr. Torre said, "At least for tonight. We'll see how Charlie's doing tomorrow and decide if he's ready to go home." After Colby had left, the doctor said to Alan, "You can stay if you'd like, but it's going to be kind of messy."

"I raised two boys, Dr. Torre, I can handle messy."

But Alan wasn't quite as prepared as he thought he was. He grimaced at the sight of Charlie's upper arm when the bandages were removed.

Dr. Torre said, "This is the exit wound. It looks a lot worse than the entry wound on the back of his arm. As bullet wounds go, this one really doesn't look bad."

Alan winced. "It looks pretty bad to me. But then this is the first one I've seen."

Dr. Torre picked up a hypodermic. "Charlie, this is going to sting for a minute. I'm numbing the area so I can clean and suture the wound."

Charlie's eyes widened as he looked at the needle. He quickly squeezed them shut and gasped as the needle pierced his skin.

Alan squeezed Charlie's left hand.. "Shhh," he soothed. "It's okay, Charlie. Stay still. Try to relax your arm. It'll hurt less."

--

Colby grinned as Liz picked up on the first ring. "Hey, Liz, ask Don if he's ready for a roommate."

He could hear her relaying the message, and then Don's voice came over the phone. "Colby, what's going on with Charlie?"

"Calm down, Don. The bone is cracked, but the doctor doesn't think he'll need surgery. He's cleaning the wound now and stitching him up. He wants to keep him in for a day or two on IV antibiotics."

"Thanks. That's good news. How's he feeling?"

"He's pretty sleepy. They've started him on something stronger for the pain, and he was pretty much out of it when I left. Listen, if you don't mind, I'm going to go check on Fred."

"That's fine. Dad's still with Charlie, right?"

"Yeah. Wild horses and all that."

Don laughed. "Thanks, Colby. Give Liz or David a call when you find out about Fred, okay? I think I'm going to take a nap before my roommate moves in. He snores."

When he hung up, Don noticed Liz and David were grinning at him. "What?"

"Charlie must be doing okay," David said. "You just laughed."

"He is. Just a few stitches and a day or two of IV antibiotics. I guess they're going to bend the rule about no roommates for law enforcement. They'll be bringing him up here in a little while."

"That's great news," Liz said. "If he's up to it I want to ask him a few questions before I leave."

David checked his watch. "I think I'll get back to the office and start researching Felicia Agincourt. Unless there was anything else you wanted, Don."

"No, I'm good. You're doing a great job, David. They'll be giving you your own team soon if you keep this up."

David shook his head. "Oh, no! I don't think I could take the stress every single day. How'd you get used to it?"

Don shrugged. "Don't ask me. Ask my shrink."

David chuckled as he walked toward the door. "Good point. Hey, tell Charlie if he'd been with me and Ben, he'd still be in one piece."

Liz punched David on the arm as he passed. "No fair. Your perp only had a knife."

"True. You and Colby did a good job of getting the guy, by the way. Okay, I'm outta here. I'll keep you updated, Don. Liz, I'll see you later."

After David had left, Liz moved to sit on the edge of Don's bed. "How you feeling?"

"Sore," Don murmured, rubbing his stomach and grimacing.

"Are you due for your pain meds?"

"Yeah. The nurse came by a little while ago, but I want to wait until after Charlie gets here and that stuff knocks me out."

"You told Colby you were going to take a nap."

"There's a difference between taking a nap and being doped into unconsciousness," Don said, "But, speaking of Colby, he said he was going to check on Fred. I told him to call you or David when he knows anything about his condition. Maybe you guys will get a chance to talk to him tonight."

"That would be great. Charlie was sure Fred recognized our shooter. I'm sure they've ID'ed him by now, but it would be nice to find out how Fred knows him. Listen," Liz said, running her fingers through Don's hair, "why don't you take that nap? I'll wake you up when Charlie gets here."

"Nah. I don't want to be a bad host."

"You're not the host. You're the sick guy, and the sick guy doesn't have to be polite. Get some sleep. If you were telling Colby the truth about Charlie's snoring, you're going to need to get some sleep before he gets here."

"You sure?" Don asked as his eyes drifted shut. "I could..."

"Shhh. I'm sure."

--

Liz didn't have to wake Don up when Charlie arrived. His eyes opened at the sound of his father's voice, and he grinned groggily at his brother. "Hey, Buddy! 's that you?"

Charlie was slouched in a wheelchair, right arm in a sling, trying hard to keep his eyes open. "Don? Hey, yeah, it's me. Looks like we're gonna be roommates for a while."

Don raised the head of his bed to get a better look at Charlie. "How are you doing? You okay?"

"'m sore. And whatever they gave me for the pain is makin' me sleepy."

Liz stood. "Charlie! It's good to see you."

"Hey, Liz," Charlie said, smiling tiredly, "D'you solve the case yet?"

"With our two best investigators out of commission, it's going to take the rest of us a little longer," Liz said.

Andrea parked the wheelchair beside the second bed. "Okay, Charlie, let me help you up. We're going to get you into bed and get your IV switched over to the pole. Take it slow. We don't want you falling and hurting yourself."

"No. No we don't," Charlie murmured as he moved his feet from the footrests to the floor.

Alan stepped forward to help, but Andrea said, "I've got him, Mr. Eppes." She helped Charlie to his feet and then held the tubes out of the way as he climbed into bed. He tried to move his right arm to brace himself. "Use your left hand, Charlie," she said.

"Okay, sorry. I keep forgetting. I think it's going to take a while for my brain to catch up."

Don chuckled. "You never had that problem before, Buddy. Your brain has always been the sharpest part of you."

Alan sat on the foot of Don's bed. "Dr. Torre said his brain is flabby."

"Just the right side of it, Dad," Charlie said. "See, Don, the left side of the brain controls the logic and mathematical processes, and controls the right side of the body..."

"Shh, Chuck," Don said. "We're both too doped up for a math lecture now."

"That's not math," Charlie said as he settled back onto his pillow. "It's biology."

"Whatever," Don shrugged. "You said mathematical processes and my brain shut down."

"So, Don," Andrea said as she pulled the covers up to Charlie's waist, "Dr. Torre asked me to see you you were doing."

"Five'll get you ten he says he's fine," Alan said, patting Don's leg.

"You lose, Dad. I'm sore. I put off taking my painkillers so I could wait up for you guys. What'd you do, let Charlie lecture the whole staff on brain function while I was up here in pain?"

"Aw, poor baby," Alan said. "Want me to call the nurse for you, or do you have the strength to do it yourself?"

Don chuckled. "I think I can put up with the agony a few minutes longer."

Liz shook her head and crossed the room. "Hey, Charlie, you up to answering a few questions while those two bicker?"

"Sure," Charlie said, trying to shift to a more comfortable position. "What do you need?"

"I just need to know what you observed before and during the shooting."

Charlie nodded and closed his eyes, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Okay, We were walking toward the picnic table. I, well, I was looking down as I walked. Thinking about something totally unrelated."

"Why am I not surprised?" Liz said.

Charlie opened his eyes and glanced at her.

"I'm just teasing, Charlie. Sorry. Go on."

"Fred stopped walking. I was next to him. He said, 'Oh, God,' and I looked up to see what he was looking at. There was a guy dressed in dark clothes, pointing a gun at Fred. He was smiling. It was like he knew Fred and was... was looking forward to killing him."

"Okay, that's good to know. What happened then? Did he say anything else?"

"Fred stood there, just frozen. I don't remember him saying anything else. I knew he was going to get killed if I didn't do anything. No offense, but I didn't think you and Colby would be able to stop him in time."

"No offense taken, Charlie."

"I tackled him. We hit the pavement really hard, and he landed on my arm," he reached up, and massaged the bandage. "I thought it was broken from the impact, but I guess it was the bullet." A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "The trajectories had to be pretty complex. The two of us moving, the shooter moving..."

"You can figure them out when you're a little more awake. Anything else?"

"Not really. I held him down and just waited until you yelled for us to get into the car. Then I realized he had been shot. I tried to stop the bleeding the best I could."

"You did a good job, Charlie."

"It was strange. I didn't realize right away that I'd been shot."

"That's normal," Don said from across the room. "I mean, I knew right away, but a lot of times people don't feel anything right away."

"Or," Liz added, "like you, they think it's something else. You thought it was because Fred landed on your arm." She stood and rested her hand on Charlie's good shoulder. "You did good, Charlie. Now you'll have something exciting to tell your grandkids."

Alan snorted. "His grandkids?! He'll have to settle down and get married and have his own kids before he can ever hope to have grandkids." Alan's eyes widened. "Has anybody called Amita and told her about this?" he said, waving a hand toward Charlie.

Liz and Charlie shook their heads. Charlie moaned, "She's going to kill me. What time is it? Is it too late to call her?"

Alan glanced at his watch. "I don't know, Charlie..."

"Liz, can I borrow your phone? Mine is someplace with my clothes. I hope."

Liz handed Charlie her phone and he started to dial. He paused when he noticed everybody was staring at him. "How about a little privacy, here?"

Don grinned. "Privacy? Have you looked at what you're wearing? There's no such thing as privacy in a hospital."