Mox loved Steak N Shake. Steakburgers, shoestring fries, and milkshakes. Who could ask for more? Especially when sharing them with a lovely lady. He grinned as Alexa finished her steakburger.

"I'll be in a food coma by the time I get back to the office," Alexa moaned. "But this is so good. Where has this place been all my life?" She pushed the few remnants of her steakburger to one side.

Mox chuckled. "I think it opened just before I got arrested," he admitted. "But I remembered how good it is." He pointed a French fry at Alexa. "And you said you were okay with burgers and fries."

Alexa happily nodded.

"How was your visit home?" Mox casually asked, taking a bite of his burger.

"I didn't go home," Alexa answered. "I went back to Ohio where my family lives." She pointed out the window. "This is home now."

Mox slightly smiled. "Not a good visit?"

Alexa shrugged. "Went as expected. Why am I not married? I'm not getting any younger. Being a lawyer is nice but maybe I shouldn't be so picky about selecting a husband." She dragged a French fry through some ketchup. "I have to admit the family photo was funny-looking. My tall slender elegant mother and my three tall slender elegant sisters…and me. The little pudgepot."

Mox choked on his chocolate milkshake. He wiped his mouth then grunted, "I don't know what a pudgepot is, but I'm sure that's not you."

"Awww, thanks!" Alexa reached across the table and squeezed his hand. Grinning, she released his hand and chewed on another French fry. "Doesn't matter. I've heard it so much that it doesn't hurt. And I've decided that as long as I exercise and eat sensibly, I can enjoy a meal like this without slipping back into the binge and purge lifestyle."

"Good," Mox solemnly nodded.

Blue eyes twinkling, Alexa batted her eyes. "So, Mox…what's in the bag?"

Mox glanced to his left where a gift bag sat on the seat next to him. "I…uh…I got you a Christmas present," he admitted.

"Good!" Alexa turned and dug into her purse. "Because I got you one!" She pulled out a long slender box wrapped in bright red paper with a white bow and held it out to him.

Mox wiped his hands on his napkin. "You didn't have to get me anything," he muttered as he took the box.

Alexa tilted her head to one side. "You didn't have to get me anything either." She suddenly grinned. "But we both did!" She almost bounced in her seat. "Open it!"

Mox chuckled as he tore into the wrapping. He opened the box and stared down at the watch lying inside.

"You seem like a traditional guy when it comes to things," Alexa softly explained. "So, I thought you'd like a watch that just told time and maybe the date. And a leather band seemed more your style than a metal band." She saw him staring down at the watch. "Is it okay?"

"Yeah," Mox quietly answered.

Time in prison had been marked by buzzers and commands from the guards. His watch had been included with the rest of his effects when he was released from prison. But the battery had long since died, and he'd never thought about getting it replaced.

Mox slowly took the watch from the box and fastened it around his wrist. Then he smiled at Alexa. "It's perfect. Thank you."

Alexa seemed to relax. "Thank God. I was totally guessing about it."

Mox chuckled and set the gift bag on the table. "Well, I should tell you that I had help picking this. The wife of a friend…well, she's a friend, too…anyway it's been a long time since I bought anybody a gift that I knew I needed help." He watched Alexa remove the wrapped box from the gift bag. "I didn't know your favorite color…"

"Blue. And pink. And sometimes green."

"Or your favorite music…"

"Classic R&B and Motown."

Mox decided not to mention that he liked her perfume. "But I remembered your nails were a different color each time I saw you so…"

Alexa tore the wrapping from the box and squealed. "Oh my God! These colors are…glitter! Some are glittered!" She looked at Mox with a laugh. "I'm definitely wearing one of these on our next date!"

Mox found himself laughing with her.

Fifteen minutes later, they were leaving the restaurant and almost ran into a couple of Davenport detectives.

Cena and Styles stopped in surprise then quickly looked at each other.

Mox's face hardened as he took a step in front of Alexa.

Alexa calmly nodded at the detectives.

"Mr. Moxley, quite a coincidence," Cena finally spoke. "We need to speak with you."

"In regards to what, Detective?" Alexa snapped.

"We've been requested to speak with Mr. Moxley about his time in prison with Brock Lesnar," Cena explained.

"Call my attorney," Mox coldly spoke.

The two detectives exchanged a puzzled look, then turned their attention to Alexa.

"Mr. Regal is Mr. Moxley's official attorney of record," Alexa briefly explained. "Good day, detectives."

"Damn, she's gotten involved with him," Styles muttered as the two walked away. "Otherwise, she would've laid into us for wanting to question Moxley again."

Cena soberly nodded then turned to walk inside the restaurant.

"Grab a table," Styles told him as he pulled out his cell phone. "I'll be right there."

Cena silently nodded.

Styles scrolled through his contacts list then dialed a number.

"I'll give Mr. Regal a heads up," Alexa assured Mox as they stopped at her car.

"Thanks." Despite himself, Mox smiled as he gently hugged her. "How about bowling on Friday? As I remember, the Leagues are generally done bowling around 11pm so it'll be after that before I can reserve a lane. It'll be a late date."

"Sounds like fun," Alexa smiled. "Shoot me a text when you've got it set up."

Mox waited until she was in her car before walking towards the SUV he was driving that day. He mentally made a note to talk with Roman about a van for the business and an SUV for himself. He really liked driving Roman's.

Before Alexa could call Regal, her phone chimed. Looking at the display, she sighed as it read 'Styles'. She'd put his number into her contacts list when he and Cena kept coming around to question Mox. "What do you want, Detective?" she brusquely answered.

"Look, maybe I'm out of line, but are you sure you want to get involved with Moxley?" Styles asked. "He's just out of prison and…"

"What part of 'framed and wrongfully incarcerated' don't you understand?" Alexa snapped.

There was a pause then Styles replied, "I understand that. But that doesn't change the fact the man was in prison for the last five years. And that changes a person, whether you like it or not."

Alexa's fist clenched. "Do you damn job, detective, and keep your nose out of my personal business!" She disconnected the call and tossed the phone onto the seat next to her. "Dammit!" she hissed. Breathing deeply, she saw the gift bag on the seat next to her and slowly began to relax and smile. The idea of Mox trying so hard to find her a nice gift chased away the anger she felt at Styles' attempted interference in her life. She quickly dialed Regal's number and left a voice mail that he would be receiving a call from either Cena or Styles about Moxley and Brock Lesnar.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Roman looked up from his computer monitor at the tap on his office door.

Jericho walked in and put a file onto Roman's desk. "Here's the information you asked for on Wade Barrett."

Roman nodded. "Anything interesting?"

Jericho smirked. "Minor youthful indiscretions while growing up in Lancashire, England." He sat in a chair opposite Roman. "Attended the University of Liverpool, majoring in journalism. He'd just started working for a small newspaper when he began an affair with the wife of a Member of Parliament."

"Seriously?"

Jericho's smirk widened. "Well, apparently on her part. When it became public, he dropped her like a hot potato. Apparently, he'd been getting some information through pillow talk and earned him a reputation for unethical behavior. So, he came to the U.S. He has a valid green card and has worked mainly in small markets."

"Likes being a big fish in a little pond?" Roman guessed.

Jericho shrugged. "I think he'd like to be a big fish in a big pond. But the competition's stiff. He'd need a real big story to get the attention of people in larger markets."

Roman silently nodded. "Thanks, I'll give it a read later."

As Jericho stood, Roman's phone chirped with a message. He reached for his phone and read the message from Moxley.

'On my way to police station. Cena & Styles want to question me about Brock Lesnar. Regal meeting me there.'

"Fuck," Roman muttered. He quickly texted back. 'Stay in touch.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Mr. Moxley. Mr. Regal. Thank you for coming." Cena sat down across the table with Styles at his side.

'Like there was a choice.' Mox kept his face neutral.

"What is this about, gentlemen?" Regal asked.

"We've been asked to interview Mr. Moxley regarding his time in prison with Brock Lesnar," Cena explained. "Everyone who had any sort of confrontation with Lesnar is being interviewed. We're involved only because Mr. Moxley is in our jurisdiction."

Despite himself, Mox snorted. "That's gonna be one long list," he muttered.

"What was the reason for a confrontation?" Styles asked.

Mox glanced at Regal who hesitated then nodded.

"Because it was Thursday. Or Saturday. It was raining. It was too hot. Or too cold. Or breakfast sucked," Mox grunted. "Lesnar didn't need an excuse or reason. And he knew nobody was going to do a damn thing about it."

"When was the last time you saw Lesnar?" Cena asked.

"When he was stomping away on my elbow," Mox coldly answered. "Put me in the infirmary for six weeks. I was going to be released out of there when word came down my conviction had been vacated. So, I was kept away from the general population."

"For the record, where were you yesterday?" Cena asked.

"I'm trying to get a business off the ground," Mox explained. "I was at my business with my employees putting together a plan for what needs to be done. That was in the morning until just after noon. Then I was at Home Depot and Lowe's setting up accounts for my business. Then another meeting with one of my employees to touch base and set up a breakfast meeting this morning."

"We'll need their names and contact information," Styles said. He was amused when Mox bristled.

"Seriously, gentlemen, is that necessary?" Regal demanded.

Before either detective could answer, the door opened. Chief Malenko walked into the room with another man.

"No, it's not necessary," the unknown man spoke.

"That will be all, detectives." Malenko looked at his detectives. "We've been relieved of responsibility for interviewing Mr. Moxley."

Both Cena and Styles could see that Malenko was pissed. But they got to their feet.

"Thank you for your time," Cena politely spoke before following his partner out of the room.

Malenko closed the door with perhaps a little more force than necessary.

As the unknown man sat down, a small smile played across his lips. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Kurt Angle, and I'm from the Federal Bureau of Prisons."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"What the hell, Chief?!" Styles exploded.

Malenko held up his hand. "Apparently, evidence was found at the crime scene implicating a member of the Authority in Lesnar's murder."

"Found?" Styles snorted.

Malenko didn't reply. "Lesnar's murder is being handled by the U.S. Marshals. Mr. Angle is more interested in what Moxley can tell him about the prison conditions."

"Feds," Styles grumbled as he walked away.

Cena and Malenko exchanged a wry smile. But neither contradicted Styles.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I can't speak as to the investigation into Brock Lesnar's murder, but I can tell you that evidence has been obtained that clears you," Angle spoke. "At least for now." When Mox grunted, he smiled. "My concern is what you can tell me about the conditions within the prison. You stated that Lesnar didn't fear any consequences to his actions." When Mox looked at Regal, he added, "We're questioning anyone and everyone who had a problem with Lesnar. As you said, it's a long list."

Regal thought quickly, then slowly answered Mox's unspoken question. "I see no difficulties in answering as long as Mr. Moxley agrees. However, I reserve the right to stop this…interview at any time and for any reason."

"Fair enough," Angle agreed.

"What do you want to know?" Mox asked after a few seconds.

"What about Dawson and Wilder?"

"They were in Lesnar's pocket," Mox shrugged. "They weren't the only guards on his payroll either. Lesnar had contacts on the outside so he could pay them off with money or drugs or women or whatever. They'd look the other way when he wanted to beat someone down. Or claim Lesnar was just defending himself." He hesitated then continued, "Some guys tried to get word out through their families or attorneys but nothing ever changed. Maybe they got a visit from some of Lesnar's friends on the outside."

"And the warden?"

"Never moved out of his office. The prison doctor reported all the injuries to the warden. Took the reports, went to his office, and shoved them in his hand." Mox snorted. "For all the good it did."

"Can you tell me exactly what happened?" Angle asked.

Mox stared into Angle's blue eyes. "How specific do you want me to get?" he snarled.

"As specific as you want to be," Angle calmly replied.

Mox's blue eyes clouded for several seconds then he nodded.

Angle reached into his pocket and pulled out a tape recorder. He activated it and identified himself, Regal and Mox along with the date, time, and place of the interview. Then he placed the recorder in front of Mox and leaned back in his chair.

Mox took a deep breath and began to talk.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

'Hay un cuerpo escondido en el sotano de la nueva tienda de delicatessen junto a la liberia Rollins. Un editor de un periodico que desaparecio.'

Malenko rubbed his forehead and sighed. Another anonymous tip. And the Rollins Bookstore was mentioned in both of them. He picked up the phone and dialed an extension. "Cena. I need you and Styles in my office. Now."

Minutes later, the two detectives were listening to the phone tip. Both men looked at Malenko in confusion.

"Eighteen months ago, just before the two of you got here, the Editor of the Davenport Daily disappeared," Malenko explained. "His body was never found. I'd been on the job barely a month when it happened. The assistant editor said he was investigating something but was very tight lipped about it. There wasn't anything that we found to corroborate that statement, however."

"Rollins Bookstore again," Cena mused. "We did some digging on both the late John Rollins and his great-nephew, Seth Rollins. John Rollins was a native of Davenport. Owned and operated the bookstore while living in an apartment on the second floor. Had a good reputation as a shrewd businessman. Opened the bookstore to kids to provide a place for them to study and sometimes gave them part-time jobs."

"Seth Rollins' parents were killed in a drive-by shooting in L.A. when he was nine," Styles continued. "His father was a public defender. The murders were never solved, but street rumor said the murders were in retaliation for failing to get a gang member off the hook for armed robbery. John Rollins was the only living relative so Seth Rollins lived with him until he left for college."

"He didn't return to Davenport until John Rollins died," Cena added. "We've tracked him to Denver, New Orleans and Chicago. Not a blemish on his record except for a few parking tickets. Whatever he does for a living, he works from home. Past landlords have nothing but good things to say about him."

Malenko slowly nodded. "Pull the file on this case and get familiar with it. Then go see Seth Rollins."

They'd barely closed the door to Malenko's office when Styles snorted. "Wonder if Moxley's gonna be involved in this one?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Roman stood looking out the window of his office, almost ready to head to the police station to get his brother. It had been hours, and he'd heard nothing from either Mox or Regal. A knock on the open door startled him and he spun around.

"Sorry," Samoa Joe apologized. "I just got word that there's to be a press conference by the Chief of Police sometime tomorrow. The subject of the press conference wasn't made public, but there are rumors around his office that some murders have been solved."

Roman slowly nodded. "As soon as you know a definite time for that conference, text everyone. I want everyone here for that."

As Joe turned around, Roman's phone buzzed; and he quickly grabbed it. Seeing Regal's name on the display, he answered, "William, what's going on?"

"Nothing bad, I assure you." Regal sounded weary and tired. "However, it was a rather long interview with a chap from the Federal Bureau of Prisons. Mr. Moxley is on his way home. It…took a lot out of him. He spoke of his time in prison and confrontations with Lesnar."

"Thanks, William. I'll watch out for him."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Forty minutes later, Mox slowly opened the back door and walked in. He shut the door behind him and turned to see Roman standing a few feet away. Mox silently held out the keys to the SUV. When Roman took them, he muttered, "I probably shouldn't have been driving, but I was really careful. I just wanted to get ho…"

His words were cut off when Roman wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"Roman…"

"Shut up, Jon."

Mox shut up and returned the hug.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hours later, Roman stood on the back deck and stared up into the night sky. Mox was finally sleeping peacefully upstairs in his bed. It had taken some persuasion to get some comfort food into Mox, but his brother never turned down bacon. Even so, a small bowl of potato soup and half of a BLT was all he could manage.

He pulled out his cell phone and pulled up the text he'd received from Alexa asking if Mox was okay. He'd replied 'No, but he will be. He's sleeping now. But I know he'd appreciate hearing from you tomorrow. Thank you for caring about him.'