"Cena!"

Cena turned around, hearing his name being called. He saw Styles walking rapidly across the parking lot towards him, holding a travel mug in each hand. When his partner reached him, he was handed one of the travel mugs.

"Figured you didn't take time to stop for coffee," Styles explained. He saw Cena cautiously stare at the travel mug. "Wife fixed it," he assured the other detective with a grin.

"Thanks." Cena gratefully took a sip as they walked into their precinct. The sun was just barely coming up over the horizon and he desperately needed the caffeine. Plus, Styles' wife made a damn good cup of coffee. And she remembered how he liked it. "And thank Wendy for me."

Styles nodded. "Any idea what this is all about?" he quietly asked as they walked towards the elevators.

Cena shook his head. "All I know is the Chief called and said to get down here immediately and meet him in his conference room."

"Great. Just great," Styles grunted. As the elevator door closed and the car began to rise, he continued, "I hope to hell we're not getting dragged into that escaped convict mess. We've got enough on our plates as it is."

Cena silently nodded.

When they reached the conference room door, they took a look at each other. Both men took a deep breath, then Cena knocked on the door.

"Enter."

Cena opened the door and walked into the room followed by Styles. He nodded at Chief Malenko and Special D.A. Cole. He recognized one of the other men in the office as someone Cole had called in to assist him. 'Strong. Yeah, that's the name.'

"Thanks for coming in," Malenko nodded as Styles closed the door behind him. "I'd offer you coffee, but I see you brought some."

"Wife wouldn't let me get behind the wheel of the car unless I had some coffee in me," Styles grunted as he slumped into a chair. "Told me to bring some to my partner." He curiously glanced at the other two men in the room.

"This is Detective Bobby Fish and Detective Kyle O'Reilly," Cole introduced. "Guys, Detectives John Cena and A. J. Styles. They've been working with me on the Shairi murder."

The four men nodded silently at each other. Cena noted the exhaustion on their faces and figured they'd been pulled in a lot earlier than he and Styles.

"At 1:07am, a 911 call came in asking for officers to be sent to an abandoned warehouse at the corner of River Road and LeClaire Highway. A man was heard screaming 'awful' as the caller put it. The caller didn't identify himself other than to say he'd been looking for a place to sleep. He hung up before the dispatcher could get any additional information." Malenko took a deep breath. "The responding officers didn't find our anonymous caller, but they found a dead body and a flash drive next to him." He opened a folder and put several crimescene photographs on the table.

Cena and Styles leaned forward to study the pictures.

"Is that…" Styles looked at Malenko.

"Bray Wyatt," Malenko nodded.

"I can see why the caller said he heard awful screaming," Cena muttered. "Cause of death established?"

"Still waiting on it," Malenko answered. "Prelim shows broken ribs punctured both lungs. They were filled with blood."

"Along with other major injuries," O'Reilly spoke up. "Some caused broken bones and others were to cause as much pain as possible. Both shoulders were dislocated. All his fingers were shattered. And there were electrical burns around his neck. The autopsy will give us a detailed list."

"But here's the interesting thing." Despite his weariness, Cole's blue eyes twinkled. "The flash drive." He nodded at Fish. "Bring it up, Bobby."

Fish turned his laptop so everyone could see the screen. "The actual flash drive has been logged into evidence. From what I could determine, there's nothing on it but this video. I downloaded it to the laptop. The flash drive will be examined more closely, and we'll send it off to the FBI for an independent analysis." He pressed a button and the video began to play.

"Two police officers were murdered by Io Shairi. Why would she do that?"

Wyatt shrugged. "Sister Io would have to answer that. I, in no way, speak for her. Her family did that far too often."

"Did you ask her to do that?"

Wyatt chuckled. "Sister Io knew what those men were. Liars! Deceivers! Part of a system that thrives upon lies and deceit! How could they be properly judged by a system as corrupt as they?"

"And then she died."

Cena held up a hand, and Fish stopped the video. "That one voice is disguised."

Fish nodded. "Electronically altered. Not impossible to identify, but it will be very very hard; and any defense attorney could raise doubt as to the veracity of any identification."

Cena thoughtfully nodded. "He…or she was concerned about being identified. Means it's someone local. An out-of-town hitman wouldn't be so concerned."

"Unless his…or her identity could tie him…or her into other crimes," Styles sing-songed. He mischievously grinned at his partner who ruefully shrugged.

Cole nodded at Fish who started the video again.

"She had purchased a gun a few years ago. Not for personal defense, although that was the reason she gave everyone. But because she thought a great deal about ending her own life. She found out she could not have children. Children of her own to love and cherish. And it grieved her so. Why should I stop her and force her to continue to live in agony?"

"You were there when she committed suicide?"

Wyatt shrugged. "You may call it whatever you wish. Sister Io had no reason to live any longer. She had no worth to her family unless she continued being what they wanted her to be. And she could not be that person any longer. We talked. I smoothed the path for her."

This time Styles held up a hand and looked at Cole. "He never said he killed Shairi. So, it was an accident? Assisted suicide?"

Cole sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "That's only going to matter to Shairi's family. Legally, we can't put a dead man on trial. Did he do anything to stop her from committing suicide? Not according to him. Did he encourage her to commit suicide? Not according to him. It was just him and Shairi in that house that we know of. Unless a third party comes forward, it's going to be a hard sell to get the Coroner to change his decision." He was aware of Strong's glance at him and nodded for Fish to continue the video.

"Then you know how important family is. This Renee Young, in her deceit in wanting to find out 'truths', upset and scared some members of my family. She lied to them! Deceived them!" He held out his arms to either side of his body and looked upward. "She wrote the truth of her own demise!" He slowly lowered his arms. "For you see, my family means everything to me."

"So you killed Renee Young."

"As I said. She wrote the truth of her own demise." Bray chuckled to himself. "As do we all."

"I believe we're done."

"And that's where the video ends," Fish said, turning his laptop back to face him.

"He didn't say he killed Renee Young either," Cena mused.

"His DNA does," Styles pointed out as he sipped his coffee. "We can close that case."

Malenko nodded. "And Shairi's," he added, glancing at Cole.

"I've got a meeting with her family tomorrow," Cole slowly said. "I want to confirm what Wyatt said about her not being able to have children." He looked at Malenko as he stood. "I need to subpoena her medical records."

"The PD has a contract with the Davenport Medical Arts Center." Malenko pulled out his phone. "I'll text you the name and number of our primary contact person. Bring me in if you get any resistance."

Cole nodded then shepherded his people out of the room.

As they waited for the elevator, Fish yawned. "Sleep?"

"Food," O'Reilly argued.

Strong looked at Cole. "Too much of a hard sell with the Coroner?"

"Shut up, Roderick."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Well, that clears four murders," Cena sighed, wrapping his hands around the travel mug. "Shairi murdered Swagger and Colter. Wyatt murdered Young and was responsible for Shairi's death. However you want to look at it."

"Leaves just the Mizanin murder." Styles started to stand up.

"Not so fast," Malenko interrupted. When Styles slowly sat back in his chair, he continued, "It'll be on news sometime today. The authorities in Rock Island County got an anonymous tip late last night. They found Lesnar's body."

"Not where the guards were found?" Cena's blue eyes narrowed. When Malenko shook his head, he frowned. "So, somebody killed the guards to get to Lesnar just to murder him?"

"That's the working theory," Malenko admitted. "As soon as they confirmed the body was Lesnar's, a list was compiled of who he'd had problems with in prison. The warden wasn't too happy to provide such a list, but a visit by a team of investigators and attorneys from the Federal Bureau of Prisons along with a bunch of subpoenas got them the information they wanted."

Styles wasn't sure, but it looked like Malenko was trying very hard not to smile. The Chief of Police had no patience or sympathy for anyone in law enforcement who either slacked off on the job or was dirty.

"From what I was told, Lesnar was worked over pretty professionally," Malenko added.

"Anonymous tip. Victim beaten systematically and professionally in at least one case," Styles said after a few seconds. He looked at Malenko. "Sounds kinda familiar, Chief."

Cena took a deep breath. "Do we know of any connection between Shairi and Lesnar or Wyatt and Lesnar?"

"Not at this point," Malenko admitted. "But…" He opened another folder and slid a piece of paper across the table. "This is an official request to question someone who'd had a lot of problems with Lesnar and now resides in our jurisdiction."

Both Cena and Styles leaned forward to read.

'It is hereby requested that detectives from the Davenport P.D. question the following named individual with regard to (1) any knowledge of Brock Lesnar concerning their mutual contacts in Ft. Madison Federal Penitentiary; (2) any knowledge of the escape of Brock Lesnar from custody; and (3) any knowledge of the circumstances of the death of Brock Lesnar.

Jon Moxley'

"Damn, is this guy connected to every murder we've got?" Styles exclaimed.

Malenko put the paper back in the folder. "That's what you're going to find out."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mox loved IHOP. The food and service were good. And if you were there at non-peak hours, you weren't bothered too much if you took up a booth for a while. But given the amount of food that Nikki had ordered, it would be understandable if they sat in the booth for a while.

"So, I made some phone calls and did some research," Nikki said as she cut into her stack of pancakes. "I've got three contractors coming tomorrow to give estimates on replacing carpet, repaving the parking lot, lighting, and painting. Oh, and an additional estimate of replacing the flooring in the breakroom and bathrooms. What about the floor in the workroom?"

Mox shrugged as he watched Nikki drown her pancakes in maple syrup. "Just needs to be swept and maybe mopped. I can handle that. Security company is coming at 9am to install alarm and cameras."

"Inside?" Nikki asked around a mouthful of pancakes.

"In came somebody walks in from the outside," Mox nodded. "Outside as well. Especially on the parking lot and loading dock."

Nikki frowned for a few moments then nodded. "Good thought. The first contractor will be there at 10 so I'll be there around 9:30 unless you need me when the security people come."

"Nah, I'll handle that," Mox assured her. "And the windows are all going to be replaced in two days."

Nikki dropped her fork and began writing in her notebook. "What time?"

"Uh…starting at 8am."

She nodded. "I'll be there. I've got an electrician and plumber scheduled for that same day to do an inspection and make sure everything's okay. The electrician is coming at 10am and the plumber at 1pm so you'll need to be there to talk to them about any specific requirements you need. Oh, and the fire inspector is coming next week to test the fire alarms, emergency signs, and sprinklers. He'll make his recommendations and then do a final inspection before you can open the doors for business. And speaking of that, I really think we should put on the business cards and on the door that business is by appointment only. Otherwise, we're going to have a lot of unnecessary people coming in and out. And that'll give you more time on the production floor. What do you think?"

Mox blinked. "Good idea," he finally answered.

Mox watched in bemusement as she picked up her fork in her left hand and started eating again while she flipped through her notebook. "What about what you were going to check on?"

"Oh, the equipment is due to be delivered in three weeks. Carpentry tools about the same time," Mox replied. "Ryder and Kendrick are graduating out in two weeks." He watched as Nikki speared a sausage link and bit off half of it. Chewing, she scribbled in her notebook, then began flipping pages as she gulped her orange juice. 'Nikki's old boss was a fool to drive her away.'

"Okay, I played around with some logos that we can use on the sign on the door, invoices and forms, business cards, stationery, checks and whatever little promotional things we want to give away. Pens, rulers, stress balls, stuff like that. What do you think?" Nikki slid a piece of paper across the table to him.

As Mox wiped his hands on his napkin, he was aware of Nikki practically vibrating in excitement. He studied the examples closely, then pointed to one in particular.

Dawson Customizing

Furniture By Design

"This one. Distinctive without being frou-frou," Mox decided.

Nikki burst out laughing. "Love it!" She circled the one he'd chosen. "What about color?"

Mox shrugged. "As long as it's not pink, I'm good with it."

Nikki cocked her head to one side in consideration. "Forest green," she decided. "On a pure white background. Raised letters to add some depth."

"Works for me," Mox nodded.

"Okay, I've got a list of vendors thanks to those records you had." Nikki shoved another piece of paper across the table along with her pen. "Put a checkmark by the ones you recognize. I'll call them and find out what they need to get an account set up."

As Mox scanned the list, he was aware of Nikki finishing off her pancakes and orange juice. "If you want more, just order it," he said.

"Thanks!" Nikki waved down a waitress. "I'd like another orange juice, an order of sausage, and toast, please."

"Right away," the waitress assured her.

Idly wondering if Nikki had eaten the day before, Mox slid the paper and pen back across the table. "These are the vendors I remember Ben doing business with and were pretty easy to work with."

Nikki nodded, finishing off the last of her sausage and toast. "When I contact them, I can ask for samples of their wood that we can show." She glanced at Mox. "Maybe you guys can do something with them to show customers possible designs."

Mox nodded. "Yeah, I remember Ben had those in a bookcase in the conference room."

"You need to make a list of what we need furniture-wise that you can make," Nikki suggested. "Show off the merchandise to customers, so to speak. Oh, and take pictures so we can start compiling a portfolio." She began scribbling in her notebook.

Mox looked out the window and sipped his coffee to keep from grinning.

"And here's the list of office supplies we'll need." Nikki slid another piece of paper across the table. "I know it seems a lot, but we're starting from scratch. I put down the minimum quantity that I think we need to get started so if you think this is okay, I'll do some price comparisons with office supply places in town. I'll set up accounts and then in a year, we can request a yearly quote where we agree to purchase a certain amount of supplies but get a discounted price."

Mox looked down at the list. Office chair. Filing cabinet. Supply cabinet. Bookshelves. After a few minutes, he reached for Nikki's pen. He put a line through janitorial services. "I'll find out which one my brother uses." He did the same with delivery van/insurance. "My brother's got vehicles for his businesses. I'll ask him where's the best place to go and about the insurance. Same for the building insurance."

"Nikki, what are you doing here?"

Nikki looked up in surprise at the man standing next to their table.

"With your current situation, I wouldn't expect you to afford eating out."

Mox studied the man. Tailored suit. Haircut probably cost more than their breakfast no matter how much Nikki ordered. Superior attitude that automatically punched all of Mox's buttons. "I was taught that it's very rude to walk up and insult someone. Especially when interrupting a business meeting. You could at least introduce yourself."

"I'm Byron Saxton," the man pronounced after staring at Mox in surprise. "I used to be her employer. Don't tell me you're thinking of hiring her."

Mox glanced at Nikki then leaned back in the booth. "This is the numbnuts who was stupid enough to let you leave his business?"

Nikki's eyes widened as she silently nodded.

"Ah-hah," Mox nodded. "She's already hired. One of the best decisions I've made," Mox answered as he began fiddling with his fork. "She's extremely competent and doesn't take shit off anybody." He nodded again. "I like that. By the way, I didn't introduce myself. My name is Jon Moxley." He raised his eyes to see Saxton's eyes widen in comprehension.

'He knows who I am. Good.' Mox continued, "As I said, numbnuts, you're interrupting a business meeting. You need to leave. Now." He held up his left hand when Saxton opened his mouth. "Not another word. Walk. Away." He looked down at the fork in his right hand and tightened his grip. Then he deliberately looked back up at Saxton….who suddenly turned around and left.

"Wow."

Mox released the fork and reached for his cup of coffee.

"I've never seen anybody put him in his place like that." Nikki stared at Mox with a mixture of admiration and awe.

Mox uncomfortably shrugged and began buttering his last slice of toast. "Long overdue then." He studied Nikki's list for another few seconds then shoved it back towards her. "You take care of it."

"What?" Nikki looked from Mox to the list then back to Mox again.

Mox reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He opened it and withdrew a card, putting it on top of the list. "That's the business credit card. High limit on it too so order what you think we'll need."

"Umm…it's accepted procedure for you to sign off on it and approve the expenditure so…"

Mox grabbed the pen and scribbled his initials on the top sheet along with the date. "My business. My procedure. Order what you think we'll need so you don't have to order stuff every week. And while you're at it, set up the utility accounts, phone, internet and all that stuff too."

Nikki silently picked up the card and slid it into her wallet, replacing the wallet in her purse.

Mox finished off the last of his toast.

"You don't know me," Nikki quietly spoke. "You're putting a lot of trust in me."

Mox thought for a moment. "Trust isn't something that comes easy to me, Nikki," he admitted. "But for the last five years I was in a place where you needed to make a decision pretty damn quick if you could trust someone for the next fifteen minutes." He slowly smiled. "I like to think I've gotten pretty good at reading people."

Nikki stared at him for a few seconds then nodded. "Thank you for that." She nodded in the direct where Saxton had gone. "And for that as well."

"You're welcome." Mox saw the waitress approaching with the rest of Nikki's breakfast. "Here comes your order. Put that stuff away so you can enjoy it."

Nikki grinned as she cleared the table, putting her files and lists into her overstuffed purse. She smiled at the plates of food in front of her. "Thanks, boss."

Mox sighed. "Don't call me boss."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Our lead story this morning concerns the recently escaped prisoner from Ft. Madison Federal Penitentiary, Brock Lesnar. Our own investigative reporter, Wade Barrett, has an exclusive. Wade?"

"Thank you, Charli." Barrett solemnly stared into the camera. "In an exclusive report, the body of escaped prisoner, Brock Lesnar, has been found. Although details are sketchy at this point, his body was not found close to the site where the prison van in which he was riding was found. It's believed some sort of IED was used to force the van off the road. Authorities are refusing to comment at this time and have promised an official statement later today. However, my sources confirm that Mr. Lesnar was severely beaten before being murdered. I'll continue to report on this story. Back to you, Charli."