A/N: Thanks as always for the reviews! Please continue to read and review!

Chapter 4:

Killer Shoes

The four detectives were returning from dinner when the department sedan was tailgated.

"Great," Mike, who was driving, said. Carolyn was sitting next to him, holding Deakins' take-out on her lap. Alex and Bobby were in the backseat.

They were at a stoplight. Mike got ready to pull over, assuming the driver of the car behind them would do the same. They weren't on a busy street so it should have been easy. But instead, the car pulled closer and bumped them again. The light turned green and Mike had no choice but to go. The car behind them remained close and hit them yet again, this time harder, sending Bobby and Alex forward and Carolyn clutching the dashboard.

"What the hell," Mike angrily looked in the rearview mirror.

"I think we're, uh, being…ambushed," Bobby said.

"Yeah, no shit," Alex said, rubbing her head where it had hit the window.

"Okay…let's play their game," Mike said.

"What are you talking about?" Carolyn asked.

"They want us for something…let 'em chase us," Mike replied, stepping on the gas. He made a sharp right turn at the next intersection.

"Are you out of your mind?" Alex exclaimed.

"Sometimes, Eames, sometimes."

The car continued to follow them and Mike continued to lay on the gas. And then suddenly, he slammed on the brakes. The take-out container went flying from Carolyn's lap, and there was Moo-Shoo pork all over the car, particularly on Goren and Eames, who had just hit their heads once again.

"What, are you on crack, Logan?" Eames screamed.

"No, but now we're the ones chasing them," Mike said, revving up the engine again and taking off in pursuit of the car that had ambushed them, which was now half a block ahead of them. He pulled out the siren and turned it on. He made another sharp turn. They were going away from Manhattan now.

"We're…we're going…to die, aren't we?" Bobby said awhile later as they ran a red light.

"Ye of little faith," Mike retorted, speeding past a sign that said "Welcome to Bronx, NY."

The other car did the same thing Mike had done earlier—slammed on the brakes. By the time the department sedan slowed down and spun around, the other car was out of sight. Mike slammed the steering wheel with his hand and the car came screeching to a halt.

"Okay, get out of the freaking car," Carolyn ordered. "I have Moo-Shoo pork in my eyes and I think you just gave Bobby a heart attack. I'm driving!"

"But you just said you have food in your eyes."

"And I can still drive better than you," she hissed. At her insistence, they switched places.

"Where are we?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, I was closing my eyes," Bobby muttered.

"The Bronx," Carolyn said, adjusting the driver's seat for her height.

"You know what's right near here?" Alex said. "Mark LeBeau's boutique."

"Guy's got a shoe boutique in the Bronx?" Mike asked.

"He's got shops in every borough except Staten Island," Alex said. "The man's a genius. Each shop caters to the tastes and budgets of the neighborhood it's in."

"No wonder he's so popular," Bobby said.

"With rich and poor, I was reading in the Times last week," Carolyn said.

"Women and their shoes," Bobby remarked.

"Please," Alex said. "He's got nearly as many male customers as female…"

"So maybe the occupants of that car were sent by him," Bobby said.

"Who knew shoe gurus had goons to act on their behalf," Mike smirked.

XXX

"Where's my dinner?" Deakins asked as they filed into the bullpen. "I'm starved."

"All over the car," Carolyn said. "You can thank Logan for that."

"Sorry, Captain," Mike said. "I'll go get you something from the deli around the corner…they can catch you up to speed."

XXX

"So you think it was someone sent by Marc LeBeau?" Deakins asked.

"We were within a block of his boutique," Alex said. "It makes sense. We drove by, but there was no one there...at least not in the front. They could have been in the back but we didn't have a warrant."

"I'll call Carver for one," Deakins said. "Even if they're gone, I'm sure if it's him, you'll be able to find something."

XXX

"Open up," Alex called, banging on the back door of LeBeau Boutique.

"NYPD!" Carolyn yelled.

There was no answer. They looked at each other, and then kicked in the door. Their partners had been left to clean out the car and take a statement from Warren Policy and Samantha Burke's cook, who, like the maid, had unexpectedly dropped in.

"You knocked down my door!" It was Marc LeBeau, who had come running.

"We did knock," Carolyn said. "And we have a search warrant."

"I don't understand," Marc said. "I told you everything you wanted to know."

"No, I don't think you did," Carolyn said. "And then you sent some of your buddies to chase us and our partners down."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Marc said.

"If you're hiding anything, we will find out," Alex said. "Now if you'll please step to the side, we're going to search your office."

LeBeau had no other choice but to take a seat as Eames and Barek started tearing apart his office. Carolyn was going through the filing cabinets while Alex threw things out of the desk.

"Barek!" Alex called. "Take a look at this!"

Carolyn came over to the desk and took the paper that Alex held out to her.

"To Warren Policy…regarding financial backing of LA store," Carolyn read out loud. She skimmed the rest of it. "It's signed by you, Mr. LeBeau…it's a copy of the original."

"Looks like in addition to being a gambling addict, the late Mr. Policy loaned out money that he didn't have," Alex said. She turned to the still-seated Marc LeBeau. "So when did Warren tell you he screwed you over?"

"He told me he would help me finance my newest shop," Marc said, "It was supposed to be in Los Angeles. He…he wrote me a check…I got a bunch of investors in just on the fact that Warren Policy was investing…when his check went south, so did my investors…I don't know if I'll ever be on the West Coast now."

"Hmm…you know what that's called, Eames?" Carolyn said.

"I think it's called motive, Barek," Alex said. "Mr. LeBeau, we love your shoes, but we do not like being strung along. You'd better come down to the station with us."

"Am I under arrest?" LeBeau asked.

"Not yet."

XXX

"So let me get this straight," Alex said, as she continued to question Marc LeBeau. Carolyn was outside, looking in the glass. "Warren Policy ruins your chances at expanding your franchise nationwide…and you bear no ill will toward him? You never once thought about making him pay?"

"What can I say," Marc LeBeau laughed nervously. "I'm a lover, not a fighter."

Carolyn came in just then. "Sorry to interrupt…Mr. LeBeau I know you waived your right to have a lawyer present…but would you mind signing this Miranda affidavit?"

"Miranda…but I'm not under arrest," LeBeau said. "You told me I'm not under arrest."

"You're right," Carolyn said. "This is just to ensure in writing the fact that you were advised of your rights."

LeBeau nodded. He took the pen she held out and signed the paper.

"You see this?" Carolyn tossed a photo onto the table for him to look at. It was a crime scene picture of the late Warren Policy, who lie facedown.

"Oh, God, why are you showing me that? That's…that's morbid," LeBeau turned his head.

"I noticed when you signed the affidavit, Mr. LeBeau, you signed with your left hand," Carolyn said.

"That's right…I'm left handed," LeBeau said.

"If you'd looked at the picture of Mr. Policy long enough," Alex said. "You would have seen the gunshot wound was to the right side of his back…it could have only been done by a left hander, Mr. Le Beau."

"What is it…one in nine people are left handed?" Carolyn asked. "You were the only one in that house who was a southpaw, Mr. LeBeau…"

"Okay, I did it!" Marc LeBeau cried. "He was already stabbed, though…I didn't realize that till after I shot him…He…he was leaning over…whoever stabbed him must have just been there…he fell when I shot him."

"Too bad the stab wounds weren't what killed him," Alex said. "The gunshot wound, on the other hand…"

"I didn't mean to kill him!" LeBeau sobbed.

There was a slight rapping on the door and Deakins came in. "Good news, Mr. LeBeau," he said. "You didn't."

"Wh-what?"

"I just got a call from the Medical Examiner. The bullet was lodged in the shoulder blade. Though he would have been in a lot of pain, Mr. Policy wouldn't have died from it…these officers are going to take you down for booking, however, for attempted murder." Two uniformed officers had followed him in and they took LeBeau away.

"Now what?" Carolyn asked Deakins.

"Rodgers ruled out the stab wounds and the gunshot wound," Deakins said. "Leaving the strangulation marks."

"So whoever strangled him killed him," Alex said.

"We've got Claire Wentworth and Brent McInerney left," Carolyn said.

"Yeah, about that," Deakins said. "Your partners just finished talking with the cook…about Ms. Wentworth's alibi…you should go talk to them…there have been some new developments."