Adrian wrestled with the current, unsolved cases as he and Natalie drove to the precinct Monday morning. Leland had not called on him over the weekend. While, on one hand, it had meant a much-needed break, on the other, it concerned him. While the rest of his family slept, he had pored over the crime scene photos, evidence, and interview transcripts. He searched until his vision was blurry and he could no longer keep his eyes open.. As much as he hated the thought, he couldn't get around the conclusion the drug theft and the murders had been done at the hands of a fellow police officer. He dreaded bringing the idea up to Leland once again. For him, accepting that conclusion was unconscionable. As a former member of the police force, Adrian could sympathize. Leland was still part of the brotherhood. Not only had his fellow officers in blue sworn to uphold the law, but they were also a family. They were supposed to keep each others back, so something as vile as murder within the ranks was akin to seeing it within a blood family. Adrian knew the idea had been keeping his friend up at night, and he knew Leland was doing everything to avoid that deduction on his own. There would come a time, however, he would have to accept what was staring him in the face. Two of his brothers and an innocent man needed justice, while their cold-blooded killer, a fellow officer or not, needed to face the consequences.

Natalie took Adrian's arm as they walked the halls of the familiar downtown building. After a couple of minutes, Natalie leaned close and whispered, "It's quiet in here."

Adrian nodded. "Losing two officers has everyone in a somber mood. They need closure."

"They will get it." Natalie squeezed his arm. "You're going to find the guy."

For once, this was a guy he wasn't sure he wanted to find, but he patted her hand, thankful he wasn't facing the day alone.

They rounded the corner and found a crowd around Dwayne Washington's desk. With relief, it was a much happier crowd than the one Adrian encountered a few days earlier. It didn't take long to discover the reason for the gathering was Randy's appearance. He was talking and laughing with his old colleagues at what had been his desk for many years. Adrian was glad his friend could provide some joy. The department needed it now more than ever.

Captain Stottlemeyer popped his head up and pointed to the hallway. "Monk, Natalie, we're setting up in the conference room."

Adrian nodded in understanding. With everyone there this morning, the larger room would be more comfortable than the captain's office. He and Natalie entered, finding Dwayne Washington preparing for their meeting. He tacked up the last picture of Eddie Gomez and his crime scene to the white board, which already held the details of the two narcotics officer murders.

The lieutenant looked up with his signature smile. "Morning, Monk." He greeted him with a fist bump and Natalie with a side-hug around her shoulders. "Have a good weekend?"

"We saw Julie in the opening night of her play," Natalie said.

"I bet she was great," he said as he waved to Stottlemeyer and Randy walking in.

Stottlemeyer took his seat and waited for the others to do so. When they were all seated, he said, "All right. Let's get to work."

Monk looked at the board. "What do you want to cover first?"

Stottlemeyer pointed in the same direction. "Let's go over the persons of interest in each case and make sure we haven't missed anyone. For Elliott Ross, we've talked to family, friends, and neighbors, and we've come up empty-handed. No motive and no one has a boat they could have taken him out on. For Adam Gray, we've ruled out his wife, her friend, and their neighbor because none of them could have lifted him to the hanging position after he was killed. Besides that, there's no motive. Same with other neighbors and friends."

"What about that other poker player?" Monk asked, "the one who supposedly had a beef with Gray?"

Stottlemeyer flipped a page in his manila folder. "J.D. Barker. He's made a few enemies and is mad at a lot of people, but it wasn't him. He and the other poker players were all engaged in a game together at the time of Gray's murder."

Monk turned to the lieutenant. "Dwayne, what did you find out in the Mission yesterday?"

Washington leaned forward, his arms on the table. "Not much, but I got a couple of the guys talking."

Stottlemeyer smiled. "I bet you did."

He grinned in response. "Now, now. No one was harmed in the process. No one would admit to knowing about the murder of a couple of cops, either, but they did say something interesting. Someone has been selling large amounts of drugs to the middlemen in their neighborhood, and he's not a cholo. He's Caucasian, kind of short, usually wears blue jeans, a black hoodie, and sunglasses. One of them said he's seen brown hair sticking out from the hoodie, but that's the best description we could get."

Stottlemeyer sat up straighter. "Good work, lieutenant. See if you can get one or two of those guys to come in and work with the forensic artist. Offer a deal if you have to. Finding our killer is more important than some minor drug charges at this point." He turned to the San Mateo police captain. "What about you, Randy? What do you have from your end?"

Randy opened the folder he had with him. "The recovery group members, who we considered first, have all been vetted. All the alibis check out except for Gray, who … you know, is also dead. Next, we looked at the Mexican gang members from the cousin's neighborhood, but nothing has come up there. In fact, their leader is willing to swear under oath that neither he nor anyone else in the neighborhood had anything to do with it."

"What about his photography clients since his camera and laptop were missing?" Monk asked.

"We've talked to all that we know about from the last thirty days. Nothing."

"Has any new evidence turned up?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"Yes, actually. A kid come forward offering testimony this morning."

"A kid?" Monk asked.

"Yeah, a kid." Randy held out his hand to demonstrate approximate height. "A boy, about 10 or 11. He said he was playing around in the woods behind Gomez's house the night of the murder."

"Did he see anything?" Monk asked.

Randy turned a page in his folder. "He said he saw a man run from Gomez's house, go through the fence, and run through the woods to a truck, which he sped off in."

Monk leaned forward. "Did you get a description of the man?"

Randy looked back down. "The kid said he couldn't see really well because it was dark, but he thinks he was Caucasian and had longish hair." He looked back up. "He thinks he was in a cop uniform."

Stottlemeyer ran his hand through his hair and blew out a breath. "Well, that matches up to the fabric left on the fence and the glove prints, but, didn't you say you found an opened container of bleach in the bathroom and evidence he had cleaned up? If he changed clothes to get rid of the evidence, why would he have changed into a cop uniform?"

"No one would suspect a cop," Monk said. "If someone heard the gunshot, then saw a cop on the scene, they would simply think he was there responding to the 911 call. We think he was interrupted by the neighbors when they came to check on Gomez, but I'm surprised he went to the bother of cutting the fence and parking on the other side of the woods. He could have walked out the front without anyone suspecting a thing."

Stottlemeyer scratched his cheek. "True. Maybe he was worried he would encounter real cops going that way and have to answer for his being there." He turned to Randy. "Why did the kid wait so long to come forward?"

"He was scared he'd get in trouble for being in the woods after dark," Randy said, "but I guess his conscience finally got the best of him and he told his mom. His mom drug him into the precinct first thing this morning."

"Did anyone ask him about the truck," Monk asked. "Was it new or old? What color was it?"

Randy consulted his notes once again. "He said it looked fairly new, and he thinks it was black or dark blue. Of course, it was night, so it's hard to tell." He looked up. "Why?"

"Captain," Monk said, "Didn't the parking attendant at the boat launch say the guy who went out the night of Ross's murder was driving a newer, black truck?"

Stottlemeyer nodded. "He did."

Monk placed his hand on the table. "I hate to say it, Leland."

"You don't need to." He glanced at Natalie. "If there wasn't a lady present, you'd be hearing a few choice words." He loosened his tie and leaned his arms on the table. "Where are we on the department interviews, Dwayne?"

The lieutenant flipped open his notepad. "All signatures from the drop off at the lab forward check out, as well as the amount of drugs submitted. If anything was taken from the busts, it happened before they made it to the lab."

"Have you interviewed the officers in charge of those arrests?" Monk asked.

Stottlemeyer looked at him, his eyes stern. "The two left living have alibis, Monk."

Monk shifted under the captain's glare. "Are they good alibis?"

"Good enough." He turned to Washington. "Did Ross, Gray, and their partners work any of the recent Mission arrests?"

Washington looked again. "No, that was not their territory, but the perp could have sold the stolen drugs there. In fact, that makes more sense. It wouldn't be smart for him to sell drugs in the same neighborhood he made the busts in, even in disguise.

"When was the seller last seen in the Mission?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"I couldn't pinpoint an exact day, but it was definitely before Gomez's murder, so also before Ross's and Gray's."

"That's good," Stottlemeyer said. "It sounds like he knows he's made a mistake and has gone into hiding. That might make him harder to find, but hopefully, it means his killing spree is over."

Monk glanced from the manila folders on the table to the photos on the whiteboard. "Does the description of either the man in the hoodie or the cop from the woods fit any of the cops who worked the drug busts in question?"

Stottlemeyer blew out a breath. "Not really, Monk. They said hoodie guy is short and white, and has dark hair. That rules out Ross because he was black. It rules out Gray because he was tall—over six feet, so I don't think anyone would call that short. That leaves Ken Eastman, Gray's partner, and Greg Barlowe, Ross's partner. Eastman is on the short side, but bald. Barlowe is average height and has short, red hair."

Natalie touched Monk's arm. "Didn't Randy say the man in the woods had long hair?"

"Yes," Monk said. "I think he said long-ish. Why?"

"A police officer can't have long hair, can he? Your haircuts always remind me of the strict military cuts Mitch had to have."

Monk smiled at his wife. "You're right. Police officers have to meet grooming standards—off the ears and off the collar."

Stottlemeyer sat up straight. "So, this might not be someone on the force."

"Possibly," Monk said, "but how would he have had access to the drugs taken in evidence?"

"Good question." Stottlemeyer paused, then turned toward the other end of the table. "Randy, are your guys taking another look in the woods behind Gomez's house, now that we know for sure the perp went through there?"

"Yep. They are doing that as we speak."

"Good. Let me know if they find anything. I still think if we can find the perp who killed Gomez, we can also find who killed Ross and Gray." Stottlemeyer looked to his lieutenant. "Dwayne, in the meantime, let's bring everyone back in who was involved in those three arrests in question. Maybe we missed something. I want to know everyone who set foot near those drug houses at the time of the busts, all official personnel, and civilians." He looked across the table. "Monk, I want you to re-analyze those homicide photos. Make sure you didn't miss anything."

"Captain, here's the thing…"

"Humor me, Monk," Stottlemeyer said as he stood, "and stay flexible in case I need you."

Monk nodded, deciding it wasn't the best time to argue.

Back in the car, Natalie turned to Adrian, who had been quiet since they left the meeting. "Are you okay? It got pretty tense in there today."

Adrian sighed. She was going to do her best to get him to talk, so he might as well talk. "I'm worried about Leland."

"Me too. The amount of stress he's under can't be good for him, especially since he said his blood pressure is up."

"That too," Adrian said.

"That too? What else are you worried about?"

"The cases. The answer is there, but he's shooting all around the target to avoid hitting it because he can't admit the truth."

"Wait, do you know who did it?"

"I'm 90, maybe 95 percent sure."

"Another cop?"

"I think so, but Leland won't consider it. He can't accept the idea of a cop killing other cops."

"But what about the long hair?"

"Probably a wig."

Natalie put her hand on his arm. "Oh, Adrian. For once, I hope you're wrong."

He sighed again. "I wish I was too, but, you know, I'm not."

"Then, how are you going to convince him?"

Adrian pulled to a stop and looked her way, wishing the answer was easier. "I just have to find the right evidence, evidence he can't deny. In the meantime, I just hope no one else gets hurt."

"Like you?" she asked as she placed her hand on his leg.

He offered her a half-smile. "Don't worry about me. I'm being careful."

At 9:45 the next morning, Adrian and Natalie arrived at the offices of Chen and Chaffey, Attorneys at Law. The weekend went by without another word from Ryan Hayes. Adrian hoped this meant he had changed his mind regarding the paternity test. If it were up to him, he would put the whole, awful situation behind him and move on, but Natalie couldn't just move on. She needed assurance and advice he couldn't provide. He just wished they didn't have to see a lawyer to get it. He had a general distaste of lawyers. Too many hours spent in the witness chair, he supposed.

They checked in with the receptionist and took their seats in the luxurious waiting room. He tugged his jacket and picked imaginary lint off his slacks until Natalie placed a hand on his arm.

"Are you sure we need to talk to this lady?" Adrian asked. "We haven't even heard back from Hayes. Maybe he changed his mind."

"And what if he hasn't? We need to know what to do."

"I suppose so, but a lawyer? Can we trust her?"

"T.K. trusts her. She said she's the best in her field."

"She's her friend. Of course T.K. would say that." Adrian folded his hands and tried to calm his nerves, letting his eyes drift to the magazines on the coffee table. They were staggered in a neat line so the names of each were visible. Unable to control his compulsion, he leaned forward to organize them. He would alphabetize them, then sort each title by date. When he touched the first one, however, he could see his job had already been done. His eyes ventured upward to the opposite wall, to the collection of pictures displayed there. They had been hung with absolute precision. He couldn't have done better himself. He stood and walked around, but instead of touching and straightening the various items displayed there, he found himself without anything to do. Not only was everything arranged with equal distances between them, everything was scrupulously clean.

At the moment the hands of the large clock on the wall turned to 10:00, a slender woman with a shiny, black bob entered the waiting room. "Mr. and Mrs. Monk?" she asked.

Adrian stepped her way. "That's us." He motioned for Natalie to join them.

"Wonderful," she said with a smile. "I'm Lisa Chen. Pleased to meet you, and I hope you won't think me rude for not shaking hands. It's not you, I promise. It's just a preference of mine."

Adrian returned her smile with one of his own. "Fine with me. May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Who maintains this waiting room—the decorating, the cleaning—who does that?"

A soft chuckle escaped her lips. "Oh, I do. My partner has been trying to get me to hire someone else to do it for years, but I enjoy it. I guess you could say it's a hobby of mine."

"That's great. Just great."

"Now, if you'll follow me." She turned back, leading them down the hallway she came from.

Adrian took Natalie's hand and whispered in her ear. "I like her. I'm glad we came."

"Being neat and clean doesn't make her a good lawyer, you know," she whispered back.

"It doesn't make her a bad one, either."

Lisa Chen led the Monks to a spacious conference room with a long, gleaming, wood table. They took their seats on one end. A bookcase filled with legal journals and related books occupied the opposite wall. Monk eyed it with pleasure. The journals and books had been carefully organized by subject, then alphabetized within the subject. Even the subjects had been alphabetized. Adrian felt so relaxed he almost forgot the nature of their visit.

"Mr. Monk …" Lisa said for the second time.

Natalie grabbed his arm. "Adrian. She's trying to ask us something."

Adrian turned back to the ladies. "You have a beautiful collection of books, Ms. Chen. Were you the one who decided on their arrangement?"

Her somewhat professional chuckle turned into a girlish giggle. "Yes, guilty."

"Brilliant," he said. "Just brilliant."

"Thank you, Mr. Monk. Not very many people notice such things." She cleared her throat and tucked her hair behind her ear.

Natalie narrowed her eyes at her smiling husband.

"Now, I was saying to your wife," Lisa said. "T.K. told me a little of your situation, but I would like to make sure I fully understand what's going on. Did you adopt your daughter from foster care? Is that correct."

"I took her in under foster care before Adrian and I were married," Natalie said. Then, we adopted her together. It was finalized in November of 2010."

Lisa jotted a note, seeming to ignore Natalie's tone. "And at the time of the adoption, both parents on her birth certificate were deceased?"

Natalie nodded. "That's correct, and all other family members were either deceased or unwilling to care for her."

"And now, you have been alerted to a possible problem with the birth certificate."

Adrian reached for Natalie's hand under the table, but she pulled it away. He glanced at her, trying to assess her change of mood. He looked to the lawyer, who was still waiting for an answer. "Another man, Ryan Hayes has come forward. He thinks he is her biological father instead of the man listed on the birth certificate. He is asking for a paternity test to confirm it."

Lisa tapped the pad of paper with her pen. "So, this Hayes was unaware of your daughter's existence until after the adoption was finalized?"

"That's correct," Adrian said.

Lisa jotted another note. "Is Mr. Hayes planning to file for custody of your daughter should the paternity test prove positive?"

"No, I don't believe so," Adrian said.

Natalie looked to her husband, then back to the lawyer. "That's what he said, but what if he changes his mind? Could he do that?"

Lisa rested her pen and folded her hands. "He could try. If he is her biological father, he could file, but I will tell you this. It is very hard for an adoption to be reversed in the state of California, and custody is rarely granted to what we call an unaware father. In the eyes of the law, it was his responsibility to know of any children he may have fathered. If he had come forward before the adoption was finalized, that would be different, but he didn't."

"So, you're saying it would be nearly impossible for him to get custody of Sophia?" Natalie asked.

"Yes, essentially," Lisa said.

Adrian leaned forward. "You didn't say it couldn't happen You said custody is rarely granted to an unaware father. Under what circumstance might it be granted?"

"Well, the court will always decide in favor of what is best for the child. If Mr. Hayes not only proved he was her biological father, but could also prove he is a more fit parent than you and your wife, it is theoretically possible he could win the case. But, as I said, that is extremely rare. In the vast majority of cases, the adoption will not be reversed or changed."

"In what kind of case might it happen?"

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, Mr. Monk."

"But what could cause it? Adrian asked. "Why would a child be taken out of her home and given to a complete stranger?'

Lisa tapped her high-heeled pump in the air. "It would only happen if the court felt the child was not in good hands. If there was abuse or neglect, or if the adoptive parents were deemed unfit for another reason."

Adrian rubbed his hands on his legs. "What other reasons?"

"If the adoptive parents had an issue with substance abuse or mental illness, the judge might rule in favor of the birth father, but it would have to be something extraordinary like that." She leaned forward and smiled. "Like I said, I wouldn't worry."

Natalie eyed her husband, then turned her attention back to the lawyer. "What about the paternity test? Do you recommend we go ahead with it?"

"If Mr. Hayes isn't seeking custody, then it's up to you. There are certainly some advantages to knowing your child's biological parents, but I would advise you to get to know him well before or if you introduce your daughter to him. Then, of course, it's up to you to decide when that should take place. Some parents who had an open adoption will allow their child to have a relationship with their biological parents. Others will hold that information until they are an adult. Then, the adopted child is free to pursue it on their own should they desire to."

Natalie breathed in and let out a sigh. "Thank you. You have put my mind at ease."

Lisa smiled. "You're welcome. I'm glad I could help a friend of T.K.'s. She and I go a long way back." She pushed back her chair and stood. "If you have any other questions, or should Mr. Hayes decide to file for custody of your daughter, please get back to me. If it becomes necessary, I would be happy to represent you."

Natalie picked up her purse and also stood. "We will, Ms. Chen … or is it Mrs.?"

"It's Mrs.," she said with a light laugh."

"Good," Natalie said. "I'm very pro-marriage." The lawyer didn't move. "We'll see ourselves out."

"Have a good day," Lisa said as she left the room.

Natalie turned to her husband, who was still seated. "Adrian?"

He stood and tugged his jacket.

She took his arm. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, but Natalie didn't see the roll of his shoulder as they left the room.

"I was reading that!" Adrian reached for the book Natalie pulled from his hands.

Natalie placed his bookmark between the open pages. "No, you weren't."

"How … how do you know?"

"You have been on those same two pages for the last hour." She set the book on the end table beside him, then sat on the arm of his chair. "You, my love, are a fast reader. It doesn't take you an hour to read two pages."

"So, I'm a little slow tonight? Why do you care?"

She folded her arms. "I care because I know something is bothering you. Besides the slow book reading, you've barely said two words since we left the lawyer's office."

Adrian furrowed his brow. "That's not true. I talked to Sophia, and to Timothy."

"Yeah, but not me. Are you mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you, Natalie?"

She stood and paced in front of him. "I don't know. You tell me. All I know is, when we walked into that lawyer's office, you didn't want to be there. Then, you went all gaga over her because she cleans and organizes like you. Next thing I know, you're not talking to me." She faced him and put her hands on her hips. "Do you wish I was more like her? Is that it?"

Adrian opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. His wife was upset. There was no denying that, but why? She couldn't possibly think …"

"That's it, isn't it? You'd be happier if I was more like her." She turned and headed for the stairs.

"Natalie, stop." When she didn't, he bolted after her. He caught her arm. "What are you talking about? You know I love you. No one could make me happier than you."

She turned, but her gaze remained focused on the floor. "Not even someone who's more like you? Someone who could keep everything perfectly clean and is brilliant at organizing, and …"

"Natalie," he said, interrupting. He took her chin and tilted her head upward to meet his eyes, then he placed his hands on her shoulders. "First of all, I would never want to be with someone like me. That's just … scary. I need someone not like me to help me relax and help me not to worry about everything, to help me not be so … me. Secondly, how on earth could I even think about another woman when I'm married to you?" He pulled her closer and caressed her arms. "I will never understand why, but for some reason, God smiled on me. I have the most loving, kindest, most beautiful, amazing woman on the planet right here in my arms."

A faint smile played on her lips. "Really?"

He pulled her into his embrace. "Yes, really. Now, can we just go back to normal, please?"

She tilted back and found his eyes. "We can go back to normal when you tell me what's bothering you. If it's not me than what?"

"It's nothing." He dropped his hands and turned back to his chair. "I just have a lot on my mind—these cases …"

She followed him and sat on the footstool in front of the chair, leaning forward on her knees.

He picked up his book, then set it back down. "You don't believe me, do you?"

She shook her head. "Remember when you wouldn't let me go until I told you what was bothering me, and you said if our positions were reversed that's what I would do? Well, our positions are reversed, and you're right. I won't let it go."

Adrian released a deep sigh. "Okay. Okay. I just didn't want to ruin it."

"Ruin what?"

"Your … your peace, your confidence in what the lawyer said. You've been so worried, then after talking to her, you seemed relieved. I didn't want to go and ruin it for you."

Natalie sat up straighter. "How on earth could you ruin that? Don't you feel better now too? It sounds like it would be nearly impossible for Ryan to get custody of Sophia, even if he does file for it."

Adrian rubbed his pantlegs with his hands. "Not impossible. She said it rarely happened. Rarely means … not often. It doesn't mean never."

"Why does that worry you? She kept saying we don't have anything to worry about. We're good parents, Adrian. There's no reason for them to take her from us."

"But what if they determined Hayes would be a better father?"

"A better father? Than you? First of all, Hayes can't love her the way you do. He didn't even know she existed until a week ago. On top of that, he's a recovering drug addict who struggles with PTSD. And what about me? Sophia has a mother who also loves her. If they were to give her to him, she wouldn't have a mother anymore. What judge in his right mind would do that?"

"He has parents and a sister."

"Adrian, it's not the same. Right now, Sophia has two loving parents, two siblings, and a stepsister, plus grandparents and uncles on both sides. She also has godparents and friends, all who absolutely adore her."

"I know, but …"

"But what? She said they would only reverse an adoption for something serious, like substance abuse or …" Her eyes widened when he looked away. "Oh, Adrian, you don't think …?"

He rubbed his hands on his pants again. "She … she also said mental illness."

She took his hands in hers. "What you struggle with—that's not what she's talking about."

"But what if they go digging up my history, Natalie? There was a time I couldn't get out of bed. Then, when I did, I needed a nurse for everything. What if they see that and say I'm unfit to take care of a child?"

"And Ryan Hayes is more fit?"

"I don't know …"

Natalie squeezed his hands, then stood and slid onto his lap. "Babe, that was a long time ago. And now, I don't know a more fit father. Our children are very, very lucky to have you, and so am I."

"You really think so?"

"Yes, love, I really do." She pressed a light kiss to his lips which elicited a small smile.

He caressed her cheek with his fingertips. "I'm the lucky one." He returned her kiss, then gazed at her, his smile growing. "So, tell me. Did you really think I liked that lawyer? You know—liked-liked."

"Well, you sure were admiring her, and she noticed."

"She's not even my type. She's got great skills, but Natalie … really?"

"But you were going on and on about how clean and organized everything was …" She stopped when she noticed his grin. "What's so funny?"

"You're awfully cute when you're jealous."

"I was not jeal …"

Before she could finish, he captured her with a kiss, allowing it to linger as his fingers moved through her hair and he caressed the back of her neck. He stopped only to trail kisses along her cheek, then her neck. "How could I even think of anyone else? I will never get enough of you."

When he pulled away, she drew him back and whispered, breathy against his cheek, "Okay, maybe I was a little jealous."