Detectives Martinez and Hanson stood in Lt. Reece's office while she informed them that Ruth Carlton's therapist, Dr. Werner, had completed his initial evaluation of her but refused to give them the green light to question her again. Visibly frustrated, Hanson suggested they simply "get the goods" from Werner, then.

Reece smiled before replying. "He said he'll be in his office after 3:00 PM today. In the meantime, what did you find out about our 'shooter' and her boyfriend?"

"Records show that they've lived there for nearly three years," Jo began. "But, according to their employees and a few of their neighbors, Chad spends long hours in their restaurant."

"Smart move," Hanson chortled. "If my girl got her kicks by trying to off me every now and again, I'd keep distance between us, too."

vvvv

"Sounds like a miserable life," Jo remarked, frowning as she and Henry stood outside Dr. Werner's office at Bellevue. She knocked on the door and said, "Hard to believe we didn't find any domestic disturbance reports on them."

"Sadly, not something that most people wish to report," Henry said. "But although 85% of women report being victimized by their intimate private partner, surprisingly, more than 40% of men report the same." He pressed his lips together and looked at her with raised eyebrows while they waited for their knock to be acknowledged.

Jo knocked again but they still got no answer. She tried the door handle but found it locked. She then pulled a plastic gift card from out of her pocket, looked up and down the hall before silently instructing Henry to cover her, and slid it between the door lock and the door jamb.

"What, no hairpin, Detective?" Henry whispered, a teasing smirk on his lips.

"Just keep a look out," she returned.

The lock clicked and the door opened inward slightly. She opened it wider and Henry quickly turned around and slipped into the office behind her. They closed the door and each released a held breath. Neither was sure what they'd find - especially without a warrant - but Jo was counting on Henry's ability to find something, anything, to help in the investigation. She knew he had a hunch and was willing to let him loose in the "playground" to see what he might uncover.

"So why do you think Ruth Carlton might be faking mental impairment?" Jo asked. She smiled as she watched him scour the office with his penetrating stare. It was fun to watch him work. Even more fun was when his face would light up with that cute "Aha" moment of his. "You only read her statement. You didn't see her when she walked into the precinct and confessed."

"Fair point," he acknowledged. "But her statement was too precise. Almost as if it had been rehearsed, memorized. Plus, you and Hanson both described how she looked, her demeanor." He shook his head as he walked away from the framed certificates on the wall and joined her near the brown, leather couch.

"I've been locked up in asylums more than once," he began to explain in a voice softened by sad remembrance. "I have firsthand experience interacting with the mildly emotionally disturbed all the way to the criminally insane. The more insane the person was, the more rambling and incoherent their speech was. And most people who are insane vehemently deny it."

The memories of what she was certain were unspeakable horrors and wrongs done to him in those places, passed darkly over his countenance. "Henry, I don't mean to minimize what you went through but are you really qualified to make that diagnosis of her or are you working from a hunch?"

His shoulders dropped as he released a quick breath and clamped his lips together. "A hunch," he conceded. "But my hunches are usually right," he reminded her with a slight dip of his head. A stern, male voice stole their attention.

"This looks like a break-in," Werner said accusingly. He stood near the open door with one hand on his hip. "Mind telling me what you two are doing in my office that was locked?"

"It was unlocked," Jo lied with a straight face. Decades of practice allowed Henry to have a straight face, too, as they both maintained direct eye contact with him. She held her badge up for him. "Det. Jo Martinez, NYPD. This is my partner, Dr. Henry Morgan of the OCME." She clipped her badge back onto the waistband of her jeans. "We had a 3:00 appointment with you."

Werner squinted at the badge and at them. Seeming to relent, he motioned toward the couch and they sat down. He sat in the armchair across from them, a trace of skepticism still on his face. "I was sure the door was locked," he said more to himself. "The maintenance folks will check it later. But we had no appointment," he corrected her. "I simply told Lt. Reece that I would be in my office after 3 but … no matter. What can I do for you?"

Relieved that if he hadn't bought Jo's lie, for the moment, he couldn't dispute it. "Please fill us in on the results of your initial evaluation of Ruth Carlton," Jo requested.

He scoffed. "Apparently, she's been under a lot of stress regarding the viability of the restaurant she owns and runs with her, uh, boyfriend."

Almost imperceptibly, he flinched on that word although it didn't go unnoticed by Henry.

"Her stress level moved her to commit murder?" Jo asked.

"Not murder, as I understand it," he volleyed back. "Mr. Boseman was not injured at all. But in her mind, she heard every one of those gunshots. In her mind, she killed him. The stress and worry stem from how badly her business partner and lover mismanaged the place and constantly blamed her for the business failing," he replied. A thread of disdain - or jealousy - laced the tone of his voice. This time both Jo and Henry caught it.

"Dr. Werner," Henry began, "Had you met either Ms. Carlton or Mr. Boseman before this incident?"

"What has that got to do with anything?" He appeared to bristle as he replied. "I know them - of them like most anyone else does who's visited their restaurant." He looked from one to the other and abruptly stood up. "Look, I've given you more of my time than planned. My next patient is due at any moment."

"How soon can we get a copy of your written evaluation of her?" Jo asked as she and Henry stood up.

"When I get time," he tersely replied. "Soon as I can," he added in a more acquiescent tone.

vvvv

"Something's rotten in Denmark," Henry said as he buckled his seatbelt in Jo's car.

"I dunno about Denmark," Jo said as she started up the car. "But it stinks to high Heaven in there."

vvvvvvvv

Information on domestic violence statistics by gender found on the Internet.