In the morgue, Lucas was on a phone call with a local mortuary in anticipation of them picking up the remains of a slip-and-fall bathroom victim. Just as he was ending the call, he saw his boss, Dr. Henry Morgan, enter the morgue. As he drew closer, Lucas could see that he appeared to be deep in thought. Thankfully, it did not appear that his deep thoughts were from worry or embarrassment after having shared his secret of living an exceptionally long life with him and their two female colleagues. He wondered if it was because he was deciding on just how or when he would bring Hanson into his small circle of confidants. Lucas laughed inwardly at the detective's possible reaction. He was such a down-to-earth kinda guy, who saw most everything in shades of black and white. Then he was reminded that the ME Extraordinaire might simply be plotting new moves to put on his beautiful Latina detective partner.

The two men acknowledged each other with a slight nod as Henry never broke stride and entered his office. A few moments later, he emerged with his hands shoved down into the pockets of his white lab coat.

"How'd the interrogation go?" Lucas asked, remembering it at the last minute.

"Interesting," Henry responded, taking a few steps closer to him.

"Interesting because the supposed victim is alive and well with no bullet holes in him?" he fished. "No … blood at the crime scene?" he fished further.

Henry smiled slightly. "I know what you're thinking, Lucas; but I don't believe that this case involves anything like … ," He paused, taking in a deep breath and releasing it as he quickly surveyed the near-empty morgue. " … what you and I discussed earlier."

Lucas nodded deeply. "Copy that." He scratched the top of his head and showed a nervous grin to Henry before asking, "What do you think happened, then?" It didn't matter so much what any suspect or witness told them for in the end, it was usually his boss' unequaled powers of deduction that broke the case.

"Personally, I would like to have a talk with - "

" - the loony lady!" Lucas loudly speculated, cutting him off.

"Yes," Henry replied. "But more so with the therapist assigned to her at Bellevue." He didn't mind going back to that hospital now since he knew there was no chance for him to run into Adam posing as Dr. Lewis Farber. It shouldn't have but it comforted him even more that Adam had been recently transferred to a long-term care facility on Houston Street. "Once Ms. Carlton has been evaluated, we should be able to get a better perspective on what really happened between her and her paramour."

"Paramour," Lucas repeated, grinning widely and shaking his index finger at Henry. "See, that, that's what I like about the way you drop words. Sounds more romantic than Bae."

Henry frowned and silently mouthed Bae as if it were a derogatory term not to be uttered in polite company. Lucas planted both his feet on the floor and turned to face him with both hands raised as he began to explain the term when Jo's voice distracted both of them.

"Hey, you guys," she greeted them, smiling. They returned her greeting and she turned her attention to Henry. "Got a minute?"

"Of course," he replied with a pleasant smile. He stepped aside and extended his arm toward his office door. She walked inside and seated herself in one of the two guest chairs and he followed her in, seating himself behind his desk.

Lucas tapped his computer back to life and opened up his company email but fought against a widening grin at the thought of his favorite ship spending time with each other even if it was to discuss a case.

"Some people imagine that they hear voices or have an imaginary friend," Jo dryly remarked. "Ruth Carlton has an imaginary murder victim."

"Please," Henry replied disdainfully, frowning and flinging a hand up then down. "You're too intelligent to take on Washington's bad habits."

"Just kidding," she told him, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. She sighed and leaned back in her chair. "No dead body." When he didn't respond, she said, "Maybe a different kind of dead body."

"I seriously doubt it," he finally replied. At her questioning look, he leaned forward and continued in a lowered voice. "Boseman is not like me. There's something else afoot here but I can't be certain until after I've spoken with Ms. Carlton's therapist. Only then can we truly determine if she's mentally impaired."

"You said 'If'. You're not convinced that she is," she stated.

He raised his hand and rubbed his chin between his thumb and index finger. "No," he plainly replied.

vvvv

The next morning in Bellevue Hospital …

A more refreshed looking Ruth Carlton sat in the upholstered armchair across from the therapist assigned to her, Dr. Patrick Werner. The handsome, sandy-haired, thirty-something waited patiently for her to respond to his last question. His brown eyes strayed away from hers and studied her various facial points, then found her eyes again.

"You haven't answered my question," he told her. "I've only just been assigned to you but I need you to answer me or we can't continue."

"Yes," she finally replied, squaring her shoulders and sticking her chin out. "I think our plan is … right on track." A smug smile slowly took over their features. Werner left his seat and she stood up. They closed the short distance between them, embraced each other, and indulged in a lust-filled kiss.