Mike, still staring at the drawing, frowned. "What…?" It sounded more like a breath than a question.

Healey nodded, waving the composite slightly for emphasis. "This is Nicole Sanderson."

After a beat, Mike pursed his lips and shook his head slightly, still not taking his eyes off the paper floating in front of his face. "It can't be…"

"It is, I'm afraid," Haseejian confirmed. "Turns out this whole this has been one big set-up, beginning with your so-called accident."

"So… what?" Mike asked slowly, trying to understand what the sergeant was implying. "So she was trying to kill us in a car accident… and when that didn't work out like she hoped, she set up that… that ambush at the garage…?"

Healey shrugged as he took the composite away from in front of his boss's face; Jeannie reached for it and he let her take it. "That's what it looks like now, but who knows," he said with a snort. "She's a sharp one, I've got to give her credit for that."

"Sharp… and deadly," Haseejian added. "And she's in the wind again."

Mike closed the file. "You haven't finished," he said to Healey, who frowned. "You haven't finished telling me everything that happened in that garage, to Steve, to Linda and to me. I need to know everything." He stared at the sergeant as if daring him to refuse.

After a beat, Healey nodded. "You're right, you do need to know."

Jeannie glanced at her father, realizing he wouldn't allow them to leave until he was told the complete story; his stubbornness made her both proud and worried. But she wasn't sure she wanted to hear all the details again, especially when it came to the injuries inflicted on her father. Steve had already told her what Nicole had done to all of them, and she really didn't want to witness her father learning about it in her presence. Clearing her throat, she stood. "Gentlemen, might I suggest you continue and I'll head out to find us a really decent cup of coffee." She smiled at her father. "You're allowed, I asked" she chuckled before turning back to the others. "How does that sound?"

They all realized what she was actually telling them and it was Mike who nodded first with a knowing smile. "I think that's a great idea, sweetheart."

"Ah, don't bother getting coffees for us," Healey responded with a grateful smile, glancing at his partner. "Once we finish here," he gestured vaguely at Mike, "Norm and I have to get back to the Hall. We still have a helluva lot of work to do if we're gonna clear Steve's name."

Haseejian nodded in ascent.

Mike, after a brief, proud look at his sergeants, smiled at his daughter. "Take your time," he said pointedly.

"I will," she beamed at him as she leaned down to pick her purse off the floor.

"Do you need any money?" Mike asked.

"No, I'm good," she chuckled. "Besides, I have your wallet anyway," she smirked as she opened the door and disappeared into the bustling corridor.

Mike sighed heavily as he turned his attention back to the sergeants. Trying his best not to wince, he held the file folder out to Healey. "I don't know what this can add, but if there's anything in here that you don't understand, let me know." Healey nodded as he took the file. "Now… tell me what happened after Steve came to?"

# # # # #

"So I gather hiring F. Lee Bailey is out of the question?" Baxter asked with a facetious smirk and a chuckle after allowing Steve enough time to digest the news that he needed the services of an experienced criminal defence lawyer.

The detective, who had wrapped the waxed paper around the uneaten half of his sandwich, managed a smile and a snort. "I think that would be a good bet." He sat back in the wooden chair. "Do you know anyone that I can afford?"

Baxter wagged his head as he chewed the last bite of his own sandwich. "It depends on what you can afford?"

Steve raised his eyebrows and sighed. "I'll have to figure that out. I guess I could sell my car…"

"What have you got?" Baxter asked as he reached for his Coke can.

"A Targa 911."

The lawyer came very close to spraying Coke across the table. "You have a Porsche?!"

Steve bobbled his head as he shrugged. "It's old, it's second-hand, and I'll still be paying for it long after it ends up in the junk yard but, yeah, I have a Porsche."

"Good for you," Baxter said slowly as he sat back in the chair, an impressed smile on his lips. "Bet it's a chick magnet."

Steve actually smiled. "Well, it doesn't scare them away, that's for sure."

They both chuckled. Baxter put the Coke can down as he leaned forward. "Listen, Steve, about the arraignment tomorrow morning. I have no doubt there's going to be a huge press presence, and I don't know if the judge is going to allow them into the courtroom. I really hope not. I'm going to ask for a police escort for you but I don't know if I'll get it or not."

Steve nodded, clenching his jaw but remaining otherwise expressionless.

"I'm pretty sure O'Brien is not going to object when I ask for bail, but the amount is going to be up to the judge, of course, and… well, you better prepare yourself. It's probably going to be high, really high. And I know you only have to come up with ten percent but still…" He shrugged helplessly. "You're probably going to have to spend at least one more night in custody, unless you can come up with bail money right away." He raised his eyebrows. "Any chance of that? You got family that can come to your aide?"

Steve pursed his lips and looked down at the table. "No… there's no one. And my friends are all cops, pretty well, or guys I met in university, just starting out in their careers. Nobody's rich, that's for sure."

"Well, we'll see what happens, okay? It may not be as bad as I anticipate. I guess it all depends on which arraignment judge we get." He smiled wickedly. "You, ah, you piss any of them off?"

The cop snorted, smiled and shook his head in amusement. "Not that I remember…"

"That's good." Baxter crumpled up the sandwich wrapper, finished his Coke and dropped both in the wastepaper basket he had pulled close to the table. "Well, ah, should we keep going?" he suggested gently.

Nodding, Steve dumped his own garbage in the basket then sat forward, clasping his hands on the table. He took a deep breath.

# # # # #

Healey and Haseejian were gone by the time Jeannie returned to the hospital; she had stayed away long enough to make sure that would happen. She'd found a nice little kosher deli not far from the hospital and returned with two fresh coffees and a small container of chicken soup for her father.

His eyes were closed when she pushed the door open. The couple of hours he had spent with the sergeants had depleted what little strength he'd had, but she also knew he wouldn't have had it any other way - not when Steve's very life was at stake.

She had set the small cardboard box on the bed table and rolled it into position before Mike opened his eyes. He blinked several times before he refocused and turned his head slightly to look at her. "Oh, ah, you're back," he smiled as best he could. "Have you been here long?"

"I just got here," she assured him with a warm smile, stroking his forearm before starting to take the coffees out of the box. "I brought you a little treat," she nodded at the soup container as she set it on the table and took the lid off. "The nurses said it's not only okay for you - it's recommended!"

He frowned, sniffing the air. "Soup?"

She nodded. "Chicken noodle. From a kosher deli."

His eyes widened. "That's the best." He looked around, frowning. "I think I better sit up a little higher…"

She realized he was looking for the bed remote. "I've got it," she said, picking it up and thumbing the up button.

He took the plastic spoon from her outstretched hand and took a tentative sip. "Oh, that's good," he rhapsodized, and she laughed softly, picking up her coffee and taking the plastic lid off.

"Good. I want you to eat it all."

"Don't worry, I will," he chuckled. After a few spoonsful, he looked at her. There was a seriousness in his expression that she hadn't seen in a long time. "Jeannie, you and I have to have a little talk… and then we've got to get to work."

She was pretty sure she knew what he meant and she nodded soberly. "What do we need to talk about?"

He smiled softly with fatherly pride. "Our future…"

# # # # #

There was a soft knock on the interview room door and Baxter got up to open it. Healey and Haseejian were standing in the hallway and they beckoned the lawyer to join them.

Steve sat back in the chair, almost too exhausted to move. He had gone over every detail with Baxter painfully slowly, as he had done with the sergeants and, to a lesser extent, Jeannie. And the more he went it over all, the more he began to realize that Nicole Sanderson had boxed him into a corner with the perfect frame. There was nothing, not one single thing, that he, nor anyone else so far it seemed, could point to that would prove it had all been a set-up.

Even he was beginning to believe he was guilty.

The three solemn men stepped into the small room and Baxter closed the door then moved closer to the table. "Listen, Steve, everyone agrees it's in your best interest, and for your safety, that you aren't kept here, or in any city jail, overnight. We can't keep you isolated; we just can't guarantee your safety."

The Homicide sergeants were nodding as they stared at him sympathetically. Frowning, Steve calmly studied all three; he knew his welfare was their top priority and he was grateful beyond words. "I understand," he said quietly. "So, ah, so what's going to happen?"

Haseejian glanced at his partner before taking a step closer to the table. "Well, they have a cell up in Santa Rosa they said we can use. Dan and I are gonna take you up there right now and we're gonna stay overnight and bring you back here tomorrow morning for your arraignment."

Steve looked at Baxter. "Is this really necessary? I mean, that seems like a lot of trouble -"

"Steve, you know as well as we do what can happen to a cop in custody. And we don't want to take any chances. Besides," he smiled, "Gerry O'Brien signed off on this, and so did the Chief of Police. How often are those guys on the same page when it comes to something like this?"

Healey and Haseejian chuckled, and even Steve cracked a soft smile. He nodded as he got slowly to his feet, turning to his right and holding his arms out. With a sad sigh, Healey slipped the cuffs off his belt and approached his colleague.

# # # # #

"Get a good night's sleep, Daddy. And don't worry; I'll be there in the morning."

Smiling grimly, Mike nodded. "I know you will," he said softly. He was exhausted, barely able to keep his eyes open, and she knew he was trying valiantly not to show the discomfort he was in. It had been a long and very trying day for a man recovering from serious injury.

She leaned over the bed and kissed him then stared into his eyes. She smiled softly. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Stroking his forehead, she waited until his eyes closed again then she tiptoed to the door and slipped out into the corridor. There was purpose in her stride to the elevator. She had a job to do, and she wanted to make damn sure no one was going to stop her.