"How's your Dad doing?" Healey asked as he and Haseejian approached Jeannie at the nurse's station.

She smiled warmly. "A lot better; they may get him out of bed later this afternoon," she answered, holding out a small key.

"That's good," Healey mumbled, then, with an appreciative nod, took the key. "Thanks," he said as he took it, glancing almost furtively at his partner.

Her head went back slightly; she had expected more of a reaction to Mike's progress and finding the key. They both seemed downright dour. She frowned suddenly, her eyes bouncing between the two sergeants. "What's wrong?"

Haseejian raised his eyebrows and shook his head slightly as if he hadn't heard her. "Ah, what?" He smiled wanly.

"Norm, I know when something's wrong… what's happened? Is it Steve?"

The detective sighed heavily. "Well, you're gonna find out sooner or later," he muttered almost under his breath and he saw her jaw clench. After a quick glance at Healey, he looked directly into her eyes. "Gerry O'Brien had us put Steve under arrest this morning."

She gasped and her hand went to her mouth. "Oh no…"

Healey shrugged. "It's not totally surprising, but it still hurts. None of us believe he did it, even Gerry…" He looked down. "But he didn't have a choice; the decision came down from the D.A."

"Where are they holding him?"

"On 7th, but they may not keep him there for long. They're trying to find a place to put him so he's isolated. He'll be arraigned tomorrow morning."

She was biting her bottom lip. "Do you think they'll let him out on bail?"

Healey shrugged. "If Gerry has his way they will, but it will be up to the judge."

Jeannie nodded, still worrying her bottom lip, her eyes bright. She looked distraught as she glanced over her shoulder towards her father's door. Both detectives were looking at her when she turned back.

"Are you going to tell him?" Haseejian asked quietly.

She took a deep breath before shaking her head with a slight shrug. "I don't know… I wasn't going to, at least not until he was well enough to go home, as long as Steve was just under investigation…. But now that he's been arrested…?" She shrugged again. "Now I don't know what to do. If I don't tell him and he finds out from someone else, he'll never forgive me… but I'm afraid if I do tell him, he'll try to leave the hospital before he's ready. You know him, he's not going to just lie there feeling useless…"

Haseejian looked at his partner and they both nodded slightly. "Listen, Jeannie, I really think you should tell him. He's Steve's boss as well as his partner, and he needs to know. But I think Dan and I can make things easier for everybody… and it starts with that key you just gave us."

"What do you mean?"

Healey smiled. "He means that Mike already knows things about the most recent incarnation of Nicole Sanderson that nobody else does, not even him really, and he might be able to help us clear Steve. That should go a long way towards making him feel like he's helping, don't you think?"

She nodded tentatively. "Hopefully…"

"Well, I think we have give it a try. I'm as uncomfortable as you are keeping it from him… we're all going to pay, one way or the other, when he finds out we've been keeping mum already," he flashed a grim, guilty smile, "but if he thinks he can help, even while he's still stuck here… Well, you know him better than anybody. Do you think that'll work?"

Jeannie pursed her lips and frowned, her stare dropping to the floor momentarily. Then she nodded again. "I think you're right." She looked up at them with a soft smile of gratitude.

"Good," Healey said happily before turning to his partner. "Norm, take this," he held out the key, "and go back to the office and get whatever it is Mike has locked in that drawer. Let's hope it's the dirt he dug up on that… 'accident' they had, and bring it back here as fast as you can," he handed Haseejian the key, "and Jeannie and I'll start to explain everything to Mike." He chuckled dryly. "Wish us luck."

The Armenian sergeant laughed gently. "You're gonna need it." He looked at Jeannie and smiled. "We're gonna make everything right again, no matter how long it takes. Don't worry."

She smiled gratefully. "I know you will."

With a quick nod and a grin, Haseejian turned away, heading towards the elevators. Healey looked at Mike's daughter and raised his eyebrows. "Well, I guess we better get started. We've got a helluva lot to tell him." He chuckled. "And I've got my handcuffs in case we have to chain him to the bed…"

She laughed and reached out to envelope him in a quick, totally unexpected hug. Briefly freezing in surprise, he awkwardly hugged her back before they started for the door.

# # # # #

They had taken the handcuffs off, and confiscated his jacket, tie and belt. In shirtsleeves, his collar button undone, Steve sat on the hard wooden chair on the far side of the metal table in the interview room just down the hall from the holding cells.

It had only been a couple of hours since he'd been arrested but it already felt like years. And as he waited in the oppressive silence of the small stark room, an horrific feeling of inevitability crept over him like a black fog.

The door opened and a dark-haired, middle-aged man in glasses, wearing a grey suit and carrying a briefcase, entered the room. "Steve Keller?"

The detective nodded. The other man smiled. "Philip Baxter. I'm your PBA lawyer." He stepped deeper into the room, closing the door, then sat across from his client, putting his briefcase on the table and opening it. He took out two yellow legal-length pads and several sharpened pencils then closed the briefcase and set it on the floor.

"So," Baxter said with a soft sigh, "I've been briefed on the grand overview of the case. Now I need your account of things. Everything… from the very beginning."

Steve took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. "It's a very long story," he said quietly.

Baxter smiled. "That's what I've heard. But I have nothing but time… and, ah, and so do you right now, I'm afraid."

# # # # #

Jeannie led Healey into the hospital room. Mike turned his head in their direction, his eyes widening in pleased surprise when he saw the sergeant walking towards him. "Dan," he said hoarsely, smiling. "I didn't know you were here."

"I just got here… met Jeannie in the hallway and she invited me in," Healey grinned. "How are you feeling?"

Mike nodded slowly. "Not too bad… a little better all the time." He frowned suddenly. "Say, ah, have you seen Steve? He hasn't been in to see me yet."

Healey exchanged a guilty look with Jeannie before inhaling deeply, taking another step closer to the bed. "Mike, Jeannie and I would like to talk to you about something. It's, ah, it's gonna take awhile… and I don't think you're gonna like it, but we think it's important that you know."

Now obviously worried, Mike's blue eyes snapped from Healey to his daughter and back. "What is it? Is it Steve? Is he okay?" he asked almost frantically.

Jeannie put her hand on his arm. "He's okay, Daddy, he really is. I wouldn't lie to you about that."

Mike looked up at Healey, as if for confirmation. The sergeant nodded. "She's telling you the truth, Mike, he is okay. But he's in trouble, Mike…big trouble. And I think you can help him."

His eyes bouncing back and forth between them, Mike swallowed heavily, trying to process what they were telling him. "How…?" The one word was more a plea than a question.

# # # # #

They had taken a break for a quick lunch of sandwiches and soft drinks. It had been a long slog, with Baxter taking copious notes. He asked very few questions; the experienced homicide inspector was very thorough in his account of everything that had happened, starting over a year ago when Nicole Sanderson had inserted herself into his life and turned it upside down.

Baxter, staring at the down-turned head of his client across the table, swallowed a sip of his Coke. "So have you seen your partner since all this happened?"

Steve looked up, frowning; he knew this was a personal question, not one 'for the record', so to speak. He shook his head. "No… Mike was sedated for the first day or so. He was pretty banged up… and then things just got too complicated. They had to interview him before that could happen and then, well… then is now, I guess."

"Does he know what's going on with you?"

The cop shrugged. "I have no idea. I hope so, but I have no idea."

"Well, that's not going to happen today, I can tell you that, but if we can get you out on bail after the arraignment tomorrow, I'm sure that can be arranged."

"'If' I can get out on bail?"

Baxter shrugged. "I've got to be honest with you, Steve, it might be a hard sell. Kidnapping and murder charges are not like misdemeanors, right? And with you being a cop and all… and pressure from City Hall…" He shrugged sympathetically.

Steve looked down at the half of the sandwich he's been unable to eat, nodding slowly. Then he looked up quickly again. "You said 'we'…. If 'we' can get you out on bail. What did you mean by that? Aren't you representing me?"

Baxter leaned forward, nodding sharply. "Of course I am, but I think we've got to get you a real criminal attorney. I'm used to representing officers accused of taking bribes or using excessive force. I've never represented a cop accused of murder… and the attempted murder of his partner. Nobody in the PBA has."

Steve stared at him for a long beat. "I, ah, I can't afford a lawyer like that…"

Baxter looked at him evenly. "Steve, your life is on the line. I don't think you can afford not to…"

# # # # #

Surprisingly, Mike had remained pretty quiet during much of what Healey was slowly laying out, asking only a couple of clarifying questions. Jeannie was sitting close to the bed, her hand on her father's forearm. Every once in awhile she could feel his muscles tighten even though his expression remained the same, and she would squeeze his arm in support.

It was less than a half hour later when Haseejian knocked softly on the door then entered, holding a file folder up triumphantly. Mike frowned as the sergeant approached, sure he recognized the folder as the one he had locked in his desk drawer.

"How are you feeling, Mike? You're looking a lot better."

Trying not to wince, the lieutenant pulled his arm out from under his daughter's grasp and reached for his reading glasses on the bedside table. "How did you get that out of my desk?" he asked brusquely as he put the glasses on then held his hand out for the file.

Glancing guiltily at his partner, Haseejian handed the file over. As Mike opened it, he stuttered, "Ah, well, ah, Jeannie gave us the key… from your personal effects." He looked at his partner with wide eyes; he'd been sure Healey would've told Mike about this by now.

Healey, smirking slightly, stood up and leaned over the bed to get a look at the contents of the file. Taking a big risk, he reached out and slid the composite of 'Mary Leary' out from under the top sheets then held it so the lieutenant could see it. "Who's that?" he asked innocently; he had told Mike about Nicole Sanderson's involvement, but not about Marilyn's identical composites.

Glancing up with scowl, Mike grunted, "That's Mary Leary. She's the woman with the dog. She threw the ball that caused the accident in Chinatown."

Healey nodded. "Well, that she may be, Mike, but she's also Nicole Sanderson."