5. Don't Count Your Chickens Before They've Hatched

Steve pulled into a parking spot in front of the Station House and turned off the engine, sitting for a minute to catch his breath. He had a whole new respect for Amanda and the fact that she managed to show up for work every day, never mind on time. In fact, he wasn't quite sure any more how it was that she managed to make it out of the house at all, ever.

Dressing CJ had turned out to be an astonishing challenge - poking those squirming little arms and legs through diminutive sleeves and pant legs and guiding that fuzzy head through the head hole. By the time he had him successfully diapered and dressed, he was himself disheveled and perspiring slightly. And that was before he had even tried to tackle the car seat. Who knew that fastening a car seat into a car and then securing a child in it could be so complicated? Sorting straps and buckles and arms and legs brought back vivid memories of trying to unravel the mysteries of the Rubik's cubes of his youth. And now he got to try and unfasten him. Making a face, he swung out of the truck, slinging the diaper bag over his shoulder and opening the rear door on the passenger side.

That diaper bag was another thing. Knowing Amanda, he had no doubt that it was both the chicest and most efficient diaper bag on the market, but did it have to be so - well - girly? Surely fathers had to lug these things around sometimes, too, huh? Would be nice if somebody took their potential humiliation into consideration.

Taking a deep breath, he unfastened the car seatbelt holding CJ in place and thumbed the button holding the myriad car seat straps together. To his amazement, they sprang apart like magic and CJ lowered the sippy cup he was sucking on and held up his arms to be lifted.

"That's a good boy," Steve chanted, pulling him carefully free of the contraption and trying to maneuver him out of the car without bumping him on anything. He managed to lift CJ free, but cracked his own head sharply on the doorframe and swallowed a word he was sure Amanda would not appreciate being added to CJ's vocabulary just barely in time. He rubbed ruefully at his scalp with his free hand, settling CJ on his shoulder and pushing the door closed with his hip. Ouch. Maybe this was easier if you were a little shorter.

He shouldered his way into the Station House, acutely aware of the diaper bag bumping against his side all the way. He was relieved to see Cheryl chatting with the desk sergeant as he entered.

She lifted her brows at the sight of him, her expression unreadable. "Um…" for a moment, she seemed to be at a loss. "Babysitting?"

"No. Kidnapping." Steve rolled his eyes as he sat CJ on the tall dais in front of the desk sergeant. "Of course, babysitting. Marge, I know it's a lot to ask, but I was wondering if you could do me a favor…"

"Somehow, this isn't what I expected you to be doing on your day off," Cheryl persisted, her eyes fixed on him as if memorizing the sight.

"Well, it's not what I expected me to be doing either. Marge, I need to be in on the Caldron interview - "

"Amanda's Mom was busy?" Cheryl couldn't seem to let it go.

"Amanda's Mom, my Dad - everybody on the west coast, apparently, except, it seems, for me. Marge - "

"Isn't he darling."

Steve paused. CJ seemed to have done his work for him, for Marge, that rough and tumble sergeant whose steely glance made the most hardened of patrolmen tremble in their regulation shoes, was positively simpering as CJ smiled to display the full glory of his two teeth.

Steve grinned. "He really is pretty cute, isn't he? Um - do you think you could - ?"

"Do you want to stay with Marge for a little while, sweetie? While Uncle Lieutenant takes care of business?"

CJ seemed to take to Marge in a way he hadn't to Sandy, so Steve watched him hopefully. "What do you think, CJ? Will you stay with the nice Sergeant while Uncle Steve questions the bad guy?" CJ looked at Marge and bounced a little, then dropped his lashes coquettishly.

Steve shook his head. What a flirt. Hope Amanda knows what she's got to look forward to. "Good boy. I'll be back as soon as I can. Be good for Marge. Marge - I can't thank you enough…I'll - "

But Marge was busy letting CJ try on her uniform hat and didn't respond. Steve's grin broadened as he watched the hat slip down over CJ's nose. He did look cute. Too bad he couldn't get a picture of it for Amanda.

On the other hand, he mused, as Cheryl led the way to the Interview Room, it might be better for all concerned if Amanda knew as little about this tiny adventure as possible.

"So, tell me what you've got. You had him Mirandized?"

Cheryl nodded. "His lawyer squawked, but I explained that it was just procedure, didn't mean a thing."

"Liar."

Cheryl grinned. "Yeah, but I do it so well. He's only here on a couple of outstanding speeding tickets so we can't hold him long. We need to make the time count." She paused with her hand on the doorknob. "Um - Steve…"

Steve raised his brows questioningly.

Cheryl cleared her throat. "It's not that I don't like the bag, but - er - do you really think it goes with your shoes?"

Steve stared blankly at her, then looked down and caught sight of the brightly colored diaper bag dangling from his shoulder. He closed his eyes for a minute. "Let me - um - just - " He gestured toward the Sergeant's dais.

Cheryl nodded wisely. "I'll wait."

Steve nodded back without opening his eyes, blew out a gusty sigh. "I'll only be a second." He started toward the sergeant's desk, casually pulling the enormous bag free and struggling to find an unobtrusive way to carry it. "You have an idea how we should play this?" he tossed over his shoulder.

Cheryl watched him and tucked her lips together to hide a smile. "Um - we could trot out that old chestnut 'good cop, bad cop' - he'd never be expecting that. And since you're the one with the lovely handbag, you can be good cop."

Steve had finally settled on hefting the bag under his arm like a football, but he glanced over his shoulder at that. "Cute. Why don't you go in and make him uncomfortable. I'll be right along."

"All right. And - Steve?"

Steve gave her another, suspicious, look.

Cheryl smiled sweetly. "When the season changes? You're going to want to trade that in for something nice in leather."

Steve's smile grew taut. "You'd better hurry. In fact, I'd run if I was you."

0000

By the time Steve entered Interview Room Three he felt as though a serrated knife was sawing relentlessly at his last nerve. He had expected the catcalls that had greeted his return to the sergeant's dais - they were tediously predictable - and he had managed to set his jaw grimly and ignore them while the officer assisting on the Sissel case, where Caldron was suspected to be a major witness, updated him on the case status and the details of the arrest. He nodded his stiff thanks to the officer and gestured for her to stand by, before pausing with his hand on the interview room door. He allowed himself a second for a deep breath, then pushed the door inward.

He could tell Caldron's lawyer had been speaking before he entered, for his mouth was still open and his hand lifted in mid-gesture, but there was a sudden silence as the door fell closed behind him. He glanced from one to the other, a little puzzled by the cessation of conversation, and noted that they were all staring at him. He frowned uneasily. What was the problem? Was he covered with baby drool? Had CJ peed on him? He resisted the urge to smooth his hair or check his t-shirt and instead tried his hand at another smile. "Mr. Caldron. I hope you've been made comfortable." Everyone seemed to relax a little.

Caldron's lawyer cleared his throat. "I was just pointing out that this is an outrage! You have no reason to detain my client! Why, an upstanding citizen like Mr. Caldron - "

Steve made a scoffing sound in his throat. "Upstanding. Mr. Clemens, your client has a rap sheet as long as my arm and evidently a shocking disregard for making good on his traffic refractions, so let's skip the virtuous protests, shall we? We police officers are very sensitive about follow-through on ticket payment - that's the kind of thing that pays our salaries." The lawyer opened his mouth to interrupt, but Steve held up one hand. "I'm sure Detective Banks explained that this is just a friendly conversation, right? We think your client has information about an incident that we're very interested in and as an - er - upstanding citizen, we know he'd want to take this opportunity to unburden himself to us. Right?" Steve bared his teeth in a smile.

"My client doesn't know anything!"

Steve circled around until he was standing right behind Caldron. "I'd like to hear that from him."

Caldron shifted his shoulders nervously. "I don't know nothin'," he mumbled. "How many times I gotta tell you?"

Steve completed his circle to perch on the edge of the long table that filled most of the room and shrugged. "I don't know. Until you convince me?"

"This is harassment!"

Steve lifted his brows. "No, no, it's not - not as long as we have him here for a legitimate reason. We have every right to detain your client, just not to hold him. Yet, that is."

The lawyer bristled. "Is that a threat?"

Steve's mouth quirked at the corners. "I guarantee you, if I decide to threaten him, you won't have to ask."

"He's still insisting that he wasn't anywhere near Sissel or the complex on the eighth."

Steve hid a smile at Cheryl's bored, languid tone. Nobody could do ennui quite like Cheryl. She should have been an actress. Any number of suspects had been needled into confessing over the years, irritated at her apparent indifference. Unfortunately, Caldron did not seem to be one of them.

"I weren't there," he grumbled sullenly.

Steve sighed. "That's funny, because your parking ticket says you were. I told you, you should really learn to pay those on time."

"Yeah, well, maybe I should find some cop to fix'em for me," Caldron sneered.

His lawyer elbowed him in the ribs, hard. "My client says that he had loaned his car that day."

Steve crossed his arms. "Really." He tilted his head. "To who?"

Caldron opened his mouth, but his lawyer jumped in. "To one Lenny Markman."

Steve pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully. "You know, that's funny - because we had a little chat with Lenny, and he says you didn't. In fact, he says a lot of interesting things, including that he was nowhere near the complex on the eighth."

"Why, that dirty liar - " Caldron lunged across the table, but his lawyer grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

The lawyer glared sternly at Caldron, then paused to mop his brow with his handkerchief. He grimaced apologetically. "My client is understandably upset at having his honesty impugned…" he began.

Steve ignored him. "Now, there's a coincidence - " he continued sweetly, his eyes on Caldron. "…he says that you're the liar. How do you suppose we could figure out who the real liar is?"

Caldron shot to life again. "I could try beatin' the truth outta Markman, that worthless slime! By the time I'm done with him, he'll be swimming the Pacific - permanent!"

Steve sat back. "Now that," he observed agreeably to the room at large, "was a threat. So what exactly is the story with Lenny Markman, Mr. Caldron? He says you were there when Sissel offed Camarera. Makes you an accessory to a capital crime."

"I said he's a liar! And when I get my hands - "

"MY CLIENT - " The lawyer's voice just barely shouted Caldron down. Caldron glared at him, but stuck out his lower lip and subsided. "Has nothing more to say. Charge him, or cut him loose."

Steve and Cheryl exchanged a quick, unhappy glance. Steve stood up and took a turn about the room. "I do have enough to charge him, given the dated ticket and the eye witness report."

"Yeah? Ask Markman how he knew I was there if he wasn't, huh? Ask him that!"

Steve's brows jumped. "Are you now saying that you were there?"

"I'm sayin' that when I get my hands around Markman's scrawny neck - "

Lawyer Clemens stood up to block his client from view, ignoring his outburst. "He's not saying anything. And I'll have him out on bail before you can finish processing him."

"Which is why I wanted to keep this friendly." Steve leaned his shoulders into the wall. "Maybe we can work it all out between us."

"Everything is circumstantial - you've got nothing."

Steve opened his mouth to answer, grasping for inspiration.

"Lt. Sloan?"

He turned in surprise, saw Officer Petty poking her head in the door.

"I need to see you for a minute?"

The glance Steve threw Cheryl this time was more hopeful. He smiled at Lawyer Clemens. "Hold that thought. I'll be right back. Detective Banks will entertain you by listing the potential charges while I'm gone."

He slipped out the door and blew out his breath in a rush, moving to follow Officer Petty as she walked away from the door. "Whatever you've got Petty, I hope it's good - otherwise I'm going to have to cut him loose and hope I'm just giving him the chance to get himself into deeper trouble. What did you find?"

Officer Petty gave him a peculiar look, gesturing to a nearby door. "Um - behind the two-way?"

Steve raised his brows. The two-way? Newman often watched from the two-way, but he wasn't in today. There was no reason for the shrink to be observing and it was a little early in the game for the prosecutor to be watching…he pushed open the door and peeked inside, almost jumped back at the sudden rush of sound. Hastily, he slid inside and pulled the door to the soundproof space closed behind him.

CJ took one look and immediately roared louder, stretching out his hands to him. Steve raised his arms automatically and CJ hopped into them, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around his torso.

Steve patted his back without thinking, staring from the bundle in his arms to Marge in bewilderment. "What on earth happened?"

Marge looked apologetic. "Nothing happened - we were doing fine, until he realized that nobody he knew was in sight. I think he's teething and it just makes him fussy. Wants a familiar face. I'm sorry, Lieutenant - I thought if he could see you through the mirror he'd settle down, but it just didn't work. Guess it's you or nothing."

Steve sighed a sigh from his very toes. He tried to coax CJ's face out of the depths of his shoulder so he could look him in the eye. "Hey, CJ - c'mon, tough guy - I'll only be another minute. You can wait another minute, can't you?" CJ tightened his grip and Steve tried to gently loosen it. "Hey, look, CJ - if you can wait just a little longer while Uncle Steve nails the bad guy, we'll go for ice cream. You like ice cream, don't you? Um, CJ, loosen up just a little, buddy - Uncle Steve needs to breathe…"

CJ obediently loosened his grip and lifted his face so that Steve had a good look at the trembling lower lip and tear-brimmed eyes. He gave a hiccupping sob and Steve winced, staring for a moment before settling him back into the crook of his neck reassuringly.

Marge gave him a knowing look and he smiled wanly.

"Well, I guess there's only one thing to do…"

TBC