Rick reaches the shelter's address and parks, realizing this location is probably less overnight shelter and more community center and thrift store. It wouldn't be the first time a non-profit had to split locations, due to zoning or neighborhood complaints. The storefront for the thrift store is cheerfully painted and looks inviting. An open gate is next to a sign that directs visitors for the community center to a side entrance about halfway down the long, warehouse style building. Around are other businesses, most closed for the evening already.

It isn't a long wait for Amanda to pull in and park next to him. She looks thoughtful about something as they both get out of their cars, but eyes the community center sign versus the store. Both are still open, but the store is closing soon.

"I'm guessing if the guy is the director, he'll be in the center, not the shop," she suggests.

"Works for me." Rick slips his jacket on to cover his shoulder holster. Amanda's holster isn't hidden at all, and she eyes it for a moment before going to open her trunk. Holster and firearm both go into a gun safe bolted to the floor of the trunk as he watches.

"People in places like this are wary enough about cops without me making it obvious," she explains. "And I've got an ankle holster." Rick nods, since it makes sense, as there's really no such thing as off duty for a cop of any stage of their career.

It doesn't surprise him to see she has a trunk organizer on one side of the trunk, filled with neatly sorted items, like a good sized first aid kit, rain slicker, and emergency blankets. The other side has a heavier plastic crate with jumper cables, an empty gas can, and a portable floor jack. She's got a gym bag with one of the martial arts gyms nestled in there as well.

Amanda catches his interest and shrugs. "All these compact cars? Most don't even have a spare. Daryl helped me put in a different trunk floor panel. Don't have to unload the whole trunk just to change a tire." Reaching in, she slides the sports bag out of the center, demonstrating the center panel lifts to reveal a full sized spare tire.

Considering she's a cop, Rick can understand not wanting to wait for roadside assistance. Response times are better in the city, or so he's told, but out in the rural areas, drivers aren't always as lucky. "Can't blame you there."

Rick lets her lead the way toward the center entrance. "Have you ever been here?"

Shaking her head, Amanda reaches for the door. "Sort of familiar with it, because there aren't a lot that specialize in homeless youth, but since it's not in my precinct, I haven't been here."

The interior looks almost like the lobby or common area of a college dorm. There's a reception desk to the left, and an area with both couches and tables with chairs to the right. Shelving near the tables is full of board games and books. A notice board directly across from the entrance carries flyers for GED classes, job openings, and a list of meal times and tutoring offered at the center.

A woman about Amanda's age walks out of a side room, smiling. "Are you here as volunteers or in need of services?"

Rick sees Amanda frown a little and shakes his head. "Eugene sent us to speak to Jesus about something."

"In that case, wait here a moment. We've just served supper, so he's bustling about in the cafeteria." She motions toward the couches and disappears through a different door.

Amanda seems too restless to sit, going back to the notice board and browsing. Rick drifts toward the bookshelves, noting there is a lot of nonfiction, especially GED or other test prep books. He tries to think over what to ask the man, hoping he's as safe a source as Shane and Eugene seem to think.

"Sorry about that. Eugene did text me that you were coming, but I always help serve the meal. It's pizza day, so we've got a full crowd." The man speaking has long, honey brown hair and a full beard, giving the source of the nickname. The resemblance ends there, since he's dressed in black jeans and a dark purple t-shirt. "I'm Paul Rovia, but most around here call me Jesus."

Amanda is closest, so she makes their introductions, probably unnecessary if Eugene let the man know he was coming. When he shakes their hands, Rick notices he wears a wedding band identical to the one the computer tech wore. Jesus smiles and motions for them to follow him down the narrow hallway past the reception desk. His office is labeled with a laminated drawing and his name, some gift from a youngster, Rick thinks.

The office definitely has the cobbled together feel of a non-profit that actually spends their funding on their cause. The chairs in front of the desk are comfortable but mismatched, and the desk itself is a cheap assembled pressboard type. Jesus closes the door before everyone takes a seat.

"Eugene indicated there was a need for keeping the discussion reasonably quiet." Jesus smiles at them both. "But not what or why."

Amanda glances at Rick, and he tilts his head to give her the lead. It earns him a long look, but then she turns back to their host. "We're looking into evidence of any new significant players in town, particularly anything related to narcotics, theft, or prostitution."

Jesus sighs, rubbing a hand against his bearded chin. He looks a little wary, so Rick understands another reason Eugene sent them here. The center director knows something that the tech thinks they needed to hear from the source. "Why is a border county so interested?"

"Because I'm Atlanta PD, not a deputy," Amanda offers. "And I suspect you know why I'm interested."

"So someone's finally trying to clean house a little." Jesus glances back and forth between them, gaze shrewd as he makes the needed connections. "This place may not be in the territory where the problems are focused, but the people we serve are moving across the city."

"Why wouldn't they visit closer shelters? There's two in my precinct, both of which have on site beds." Amanda looks puzzled. "Granted, it looks a lot more cheerful here than either of those, and you specialize in a younger clientele, but still…"

Jesus smiles wryly. "The younger clientele is a large part of it. Most of the people we serve don't have much in common with the average homeless person that those shelters serve, aside from mental health issues. We don't insist on preaching to our people, and we don't require them to be completely homeless. And most other shelters aren't truly LGBTQ friendly."

"Not completely homeless?" Rick asks.

"There are a significant number of older teens who come here for tutoring or classes who are high risk for being homeless, most due to aging out of the foster system. Social workers do their best, but most are overworked. The lady who greeted you? Olivia spends her time here helping clientele apply for grants and scholarships. Just getting a minimum wage job in Atlanta is how these kids end up homeless or working the streets."

Amanda tenses as he speaks, but she doesn't ask anything new, so Rick decides to ask her later. "So you're in a position to hear about what's going on elsewhere, without being subject to the problems directly."

His words make Jesus's expression turn grim. "Sadly true. One of the things we try to do is help sex workers get out of the profession. Most of them aren't homeless, but the moment anyone finds out what they've been doing to keep food on the table, legitimate jobs tend to disappear in a puff of smoke."

Amanda shifts in her chair, making the connection Rick does about the legal secretary who is Gorman's source, he thinks. She leans forward. "There are cops taking advantage of that, aren't there?"

"There have always been cops doing that, Sergeant Shepherd. Sometimes it's fairly honest, using them as informants and ignoring the realities of their lives. Other times, bribes exchange hands, either sex or money. Your precinct? It's mostly the latter, and the demands are pretty steady for both types of bribes."

Considering Rick's used criminal informants himself, the implication it's taking advantage of people doesn't sit as well. King County didn't really lend itself to sex workers the way the city does, though. Amanda stiffens at the confirmation of what they already know.

She sighs, hands twitching against her knees. "Do you have names? I've got rumors and suspicions, but confirming it openly has been difficult so far."

"Gorman, O'Donnell, Alvarado. The latter two have partners who do not participate, but they're guilty by association. Based on complaints made and dismissed, I suspect at least one higher level officer is involved. They know what's going on. I'm actually surprised they haven't run afoul of any narcotics task force around, but I suppose they know how to stay off that radar."

Rick watches Amanda close her eyes, grimacing. Jesus has confirmed at least five dirty cops, all ones she's worked with for years. Taking a deep breath, she nods and her voice is husky as she speaks. "They did. But something is changing, and they're getting bolder. More ambitious."

"There's been rumors of a new high end escort business in town," Jesus volunteers. "One of the women we got into college received an offer she turned down. Seems to specifically target college students who need extra funds. It's definitely a full service escort service, because she was going to be required to get a full gynecological exam to be employed."

Rick sighs, because this is bad. "Are the cops involved in that?"

"O'Donnell approached Frankie, but from the sound of it, they're the muscle and legal protection for whoever is running the scheme. Much like they've done for lower level dealers."

"If Frankie has any new contact, can you let us know?" Amanda inquires. "Probably best to send the message through Eugene."

"I can do that. It's possible they might try to recruit her again." Jesus looks through some paperwork in his desk and passes it to each of them. "Although if you want to actually get a feel for the situation, one or both of you could volunteer here. If it would add to your investigation, that is."

Rick glances at the stapled stack of papers, noting that it's a full application and background check. "You require this of all volunteers?"

"Every single one. We serve an extremely vulnerable population here, Lieutenant. Any extra layers of protection we can add to make sure this remains a safe have, the better. It may limit our public appeal, but that's the reality of it."

Rick flips to the back page, where a list of current needs is detailed. "I might know of a foundation that has some grant money available. Mind if I pass your information on?"

"I never turn down legal funding sources." Jesus passes him a business card. "Would you both like a full tour?"

Rick thinks Amanda wants to decline, but then she squares her shoulders. "Sure."

When Jesus glances to him, Rick just stands. "Lead the way."

With the evening meal underway, Jesus leads them through the building. There's a pair of locker rooms with showers similar to any gym or athletic club, but the addition of a trio of stackable washer/dryer combos in the locker area reminds Rick that this clientele has needs beyond the actual workout room also in the building. Classrooms, a 24-hour staffed office that runs a crisis hotline, and a supply room that makes Rick hate the fact that blankets are part of the necessities provided.

Jesus sees him staring at those and smiles gently. "Building trust is a process. We prepare for all possibilities."

"Aside from the obvious trust issues, what is your biggest obstacle?" Rick can understand where anyone whose life led them to braving life on the streets wouldn't easily trust anyone. But there's always more to the story.

"A lack of beds." Amanda moves closer, intent on the answer Jesus is giving. "Our emergency shelter is supposed to be for thirty to sixty day stays, but finding landlords who will work with us to set up our clients up independently is harder than finding employment. Right now, we've got four clients who've lived in the shelter for nearly six months."

"Housing in Atlanta. That's a tall order, isn't it?" With Rick moving here, he hadn't even done his own apartment hunting. His attorney took care of everything, along with one overly chipper real estate agent.

"An extremely tall one. A shelter has to have approval, and usually the neighbors get up in arms, especially with former sex workers. So expanding the shelter or adding a new one isn't as easy an option as just finding the money."

"But apartments with leases, that's less likely to set folks off?"

Jesus nods. "People are amazingly good at ignoring what their rent paying neighbors do. The only fuss raised there is typically the same any neighborhood has about rental housing versus their property values, and that's an argument they usually lose."

Rick files the information away for later. It needs more financial background than he has, and Yumiko and his financial planner will be better set up to come up with something. Instead, he follows as Jesus leads them back to the lobby area.

"Normally, I would take you to tour the cafeteria and offer for you to dine with some of our folks, but I figured you might want lower visibility for now." Farewells are brief, and Rick and Amanda walk back to their cars.

Glancing to Amanda, he doesn't like how quiet she's been since Jesus named the names he did, confirming her suspicions. If they part now, she's likely to go to Merle's bar and brood. The risk that she'll confront Gorman is high, because he thinks he would himself, and he's not as personally involved. They both need time to absorb this, and the escort service is an additional complication they need to allow for.

"His mention of dinner sounds nice. Let's not go to Merle's, not tonight. We can grab dinner and make some plans."

Amanda stiffens at the suggestion, eyeing Rick distrustfully. The last time they tried to make plans over dinner, they ended up half naked on his couch. But he's right that they need to mull things over. "Fine. We can go somewhere that's way off the radar of any Atlanta PD."

Rick shrugs, unlocking his car. "Passed a place about half a mile ago that I've gotten food from before. The L-shaped shopping center with the Marine recruiting station."

That sounds safe enough, especially if Rick's eaten there before. She somehow doubts it's something as mundane as a McDonald's, especially tucked in a shopping center. "I'll meet you there."

Following the yellow Mustang makes her roll her eyes when she parks. The shopping center has that recruiting office, along with a lot of space taken up by a medical clinic, an art gallery, one of those silly chain gyms, and a hair salon. The one and only restaurant is quite openly not just an upscale vegetarian place, but proudly vegan.

When she passes Rick as he holds the door open, she arches a brow. "I've seen you eat fish."

The comment is overheard by the hostess, who smiles brightly. "Pescatarians eat fish and seafood. It's actually a quite healthy lifestyle for someone who isn't ready to be fully vegetarian or vegan. Livestock uses up eighty percent of agricultural land, without giving back an equal amount of nutrition. Fish is much more ecologically friendly."

Before Amanda has fully absorbed the small lecture, the hostess turns to Rick. "Good evening, Lieutenant Grimes. Would you like your usual table?"

"That would be perfect, Holly. Thanks." Rick returns the smile, but looks amused when he glances Amanda's way. They follow the perky hostess to a table that doesn't have patrons walking behind them, with a line of sight for the front door.

Amanda arches a brow when Rick lets her take a seat first. She deliberately sits on the side of the table that puts her back to the wall, while Rick just smiles and sits across from her. Holly turns to her. "Do you need to look at the drink menu?"

Deciding she doesn't really care, Amanda just asks for water. Rick nods when the hostess confirms hot tea, before asking for the appetizer sampler.

"You drink hot tea, in August, in Atlanta?" she asks, smirking.

"It's too much to fool with at home, but nice when I don't have to sort out the tea myself." He shrugs. "Beth's ritual with the tea kettle and teapot and all is a little finicky, but she swears it's soothing."

Amanda studies the menu to avoid thinking about Beth's comfort in Rick's home. "Any recommendations? Vegan isn't exactly my thing."

"I would suggest ordering something you would enjoy getting normally. The worst leap to make is ordering something completely new."

"You come here often enough to be known to the hostess and you haven't even lived in Atlanta a month. How's that?"

"It's on the way to Shane's. I've stopped here every other month or so since he moved here. Michonne and Shane introduced me to the place, but Holly remembers me because she's the owner."

With all the restaurants to choose from, the fact that he keeps coming here is hopeful. "I'll try the eggplant lasagna then."

"Good choice." As their drinks arrive, Rick orders the shrimp tacos before pouring tea into his cup from the small teapot delivered to the table. The scent is a little floral and citrus at the same time.

"Are there actual shrimp in those?" she asks. After the speech about different stages of vegetarianism, she figures she should ask. Her water is sparkling water, which is a little distracting.

Rick shakes his head. "Not here. Battered oyster mushrooms masquerading as shrimp."

"Do you always eat so healthy?" The other meal they shared trended toward healthy as well. She tries to keep her own meals on track, as part of supporting her workout routine between swimming at the athletic club and muay thai at an actual studio and not some prissy workout gym. While Shane strikes her as a health nut, Rick doesn't seem as involved in that sort of thing.

"Aside from indulging here and there, usually."

Their appetizers arrive, with the platter sat in the center of the table. The sampler is apparently the spinach-artichoke dip, spring rolls, steamed dumplings, and what looks like buffalo wings. Everything is surrounded by dipping sauces. Deciding she might as well be adventurous, Amanda accepts the even split of everything except the dip.

Although she doesn't care for the imitation buffalo wing, the spring rolls and dumplings are tasty and indistinguishable from those she's had elsewhere. She's hopeful for the lasagna now. Tofu is apparently not her thing, just like every other time she's tried it.

"Officially, what are your days off? I know you took Carl to that game on a Sunday, but I didn't figure you'd luck into a full weekend shift as a new sergeant."

"Sundays and Mondays. I'm on day shift since the promotion is new, but I suspect I'll rotate back to evenings by the first of the year." Since it's probably something he should know, she adds, "Gorman is the sergeant off Fridays and Saturdays."

That's a fact she was originally grateful for, since it means she only sees the asshole three days a week at work. Lamson has the official weekend, which meant so did she for her all too short field supervisory training. She honestly suspects her days off were set for her to avoid Gorman. The lieutenant isn't stupid about the man's nature, even if she doesn't seem to leash him.

"That's better than completely middle of the week, for us to coordinate. I need to finish reading the paperwork to see how best to approach Gorman. I suspect he expects it to take a little while to set up." Rick passes the papers to her, letting her skim them while he toys with the dip and chips.

Amanda's eyes widen at the property listing. The penthouse was an indication, but this is a significant investment just in real estate. "You actually own all this?"

"Technically, the family trusts own most of the property and investments. These are properties my lawyer has been buying in the last few years that are in my own name. The cash deposits they show records of are payouts from the family trust. It's not a perfect paper trail, but good enough to fool Gorman."

"With this kind of funding, why didn't you just buy a house? The rent you're paying is just throwing it away." Amanda leans back in her chair, just astounded.

"Because of Carl. The security is most important, but also, he graduates in May. Why buy a house for just a year or just for me? I do still have the one in King County." Rick flushes, his pale complexion giving away embarrassment. "Besides, the family trust owns a significant part of the building anyway."

Their food arrives, interrupting that line of conversation, and the lasagna really is delicious. They eat while it's hot, but as the meal winds down, Amanda studies him again.

"You don't intend to stay in Atlanta if Carl goes to college out of state, do you?"

"It's on the list of possibilities that I might move, yeah." He studies her for a moment, those clear blue eyes serious and intent. "One of my detectives is in line for promotion to lieutenant, but she's nine months shy of time in rank to be promoted despite fifteen years with the county. They hired me for a year, and she'll take over property crimes next August."

"And what happens then?" She can't imagine blithely stating her job would end in a year, not after how hard she fought to be where she is. Getting a job outside Atlanta probably wouldn't be hard, but promotions are more open for women in departments struggling to recruit and stay staffed like Atlanta always is.

"I take a captain's position in the department if one is available or find a job elsewhere."

"And will one be available?" He's a man, with almost two decades of police work under his belt, so he probably will end up with a list of departments to choose from. The scandal of exposing the dirty cops won't reflect on him the same because they aren't his coworkers. Besides, if that real estate list and other small hints add up correctly in her mind, she strongly suspects he works solely because he likes to, not because he needs income in any way. It's a security she can't help but envy.

"Possibly. There are two up for retirement, plus the chief deputy himself. No guarantee any of the three will take retirement in the next year."

"I don't think I've ever met anyone who seems to be a cop because they just love the job and no other reason." Maybe it's starting out in Atlanta, where shifts are long, department politics layered like a minefield, and public opinion always ready to shift against the police force, but she lost her optimism about the job long ago. Rick somehow seems to still have his, and Shane noted that his best friend was always happiest on patrol.

It seems sometimes like that is Rick's one constant, aside from his son, being a police officer. He seems so nonchalant about the fact that he could be unemployed in a year. Is he getting bored of the work now that he's embroiled in more paperwork than police work? From listening to her lieutenant, Amanda knows that the amount of administrative work she has now as a sergeant is nothing compared to being a lieutenant. Now, she's on the streets at least half her day. She's not sure Dawn's been out of her office in months.

The waitress comes by to clear the table before he can reply, giving them a pause after she offers refills they decline. Amanda snags the check, daring him silently to object, but Rick simply smiles and collects the paperwork. She's had two meals on his dime. It's her turn to pay.

Back at their cars, she leans against hers. "What is our next move with Gorman?"

"I'll offer him an opportunity to send money through a business, preferably a restaurant or similar. I can buy time saying my people are looking for the right one, but he's got to lay off Merle because there are too many cops as clientele there."

"And the escort service?" That part really pisses Amanda off, because she's starting to understand Gorman's interest in Beth now.

"We find out how far in he is. If we're lucky? Maybe we take that one down, too."

"Agreed. Think the Sheriff will be patient for us to dig there?"

Rick nods. "He's up for reelection in two years. His office heading up a bust of dirty city cops with tales of drugs, theft, and prostitution…" He laughs humorously.

"It's a suburban politician's wet dream, isn't it?" It's a nightmare for her department, one that will probably end her career in law enforcement as the initiator of the investigation. But for a sheriff whose county only borders Atlanta? He can probably already see his campaign slogans now.

Sighing, she digs her keys out of her pocket. It was a long day, one she was supposed to be off, but ended up covering another sergeant's shift. "You're going to the bar tonight?"

"Yeah. Beth's working. We're still sticking to alternating times at the bar, right?"

It was what she suggested via text Saturday morning. Their supposed fuck buddy status means too much time together at Merle's bar is risky. "It's the best plan we have so far."

"Alright." Rick taps the roof of his car before unlocking it. "I'll keep you updated."

He drives off even as she's settling into her own car. Instead of home, Amanda aims for the pool instead. An hour of laps will clear her mind, which is far more focused on figuring out Rick the man than the case she shares with him. Shane's words about the partnership lurk in the back of her mind as she drives. She can't figure out Rick Grimes, yet, but she's going to keep trying.