Four.

After Fin, Carisi, Stabler, Cragen, and Melinda Warner delivered their laudatory remarks, the microphone opened for non-scheduled speakers to come up front and talk about their experiences with the Lieutenant. As the line dwindled, Ed ushered Noah from their seats to the side of the makeshift stage. The two of them patiently waited for Carisi, the emcee, to end the open remarks and invite the final two speakers to the dais.

Dressed like his father in a sleek navy suit, white shirt, kelly green tie, and dark brogue wingtips, Noah shifted his weight from foot-to-foot and clutched a folded piece of paper. Ed reached down to muss his hair but reconsidered. Earlier, Sarah had styled it with gel, so Ed squeezed Noah's shoulder instead.

"Ya ready, bud?"

"There's a lot of people," he whispered, eyeing the crowd warily.

"There are," Ed replied, "But you've given speeches and been on stage before, remember? At school?"

Noah smiled appreciatively. "Yeah."

With Ed's help, Noah prepared his speech, partially typing it and partially dictating it onto his laptop using the microphone. Ed gave him a simple, open-ended prompt—to tell people about his mother—and Noah had spent weeks perfecting his words.

"You want me to stand up there with ya?"

Noah twisted his lips for a few seconds. "Nahh," he said, "I go then you go."

"Okay bud. I'm right here if ya need me."

On stage, Carisi took the microphone from the final impromptu speaker, cracked a couple of jokes, and went back on script. "We have two final sets of remarks," he said, "We've saved the best for second to last. This young man is six years old, recently finished Kindergarten, and is probably the coolest kid in the city. Please give it up for Noah Porter Benson Tucker!"

Noah strode confidently to center stage and smiled at the applause. Sonny helped him onto the step stool and adjusted the microphone height. Noah unfolded his speech but, having had rehearsed several times, began without looking at the paper.

"Hi. I'm Noah. And I'm gonna tell you all about my Mommy!" He began softly but grew more confident and louder with each word. "First, she's really, really nice!"

Olivia clutched Brooke's wrist with one hand and a wad of tissues in another. More tears were sure to fall.

…..

The squad stood in a semicircle. Everyone had their hands on their hips and pained expressions on their faces. The Deputy Chief had given orders, but nobody, including Olivia, actually wanted to make the arrests. Nevertheless, in an hour so, Chad and Amelia Hill would be cuffed, processed through central booking, and charged with marijuana possession, distribution, reckless endangerment, and child endangerment, all misdemeanors. It was unlikely the Hills would face long stretches behind bars; however, the potential consequences were not what troubled the detectives.

"I hope people in Albany are happy," Carisi muttered.

"All they had to do was comply the first time," Rollins said in an equally cynical tone. "Or act like they were complying. But they had to flaunt it. They had to go on the morning news and give the courts the collective finger."

Devin, the Hill's fourteen-year-old son, had been diagnosed with epilepsy as a toddler and had been prescribed a variety of medicines to combat the seizures throughout his life. Since beginning a medical marijuana regimen, Devin had not had one seizure; however, he smoked the marijuana rather than take it in pill or oil form. Smoking medical marijuana was illegal in the state.

"They moved from the west coast," Fin muttered, "With a prescription…see, this is why we need national laws for this kinda stuff."

Olivia found herself in the familiar position of understand and commiserating with both sides. If one of her children were afflicted with a chronic illness, there was nothing she wouldn't do to help them. She would go to the ends of the Earth to find a cure. If she were in the Hill's shoes, she most certainly would have done what they did, yet, what they did was a crime. And Rollins was right, they made things worse for themselves by turning their plight into a crusade and publicly thumbing their noses at law enforcement.

"Fin, Rollins, bring them in," Olivia directed, choosing those two in particular because they seemed to be the least angry. Carisi was stewing more deeply than she'd ever seen. Fin had muttered something about not witnessing this type of anger from him since the Catholic Church sex trafficking scandal. "Use back entrances if you can. One PP wants a circus, but let's not give it to them if we don't have to."

"Got it."

Carisi stomped to his desk and opened his laptop. He started banging away at the keyboard, and Olivia decided to leave him alone. She retreated to her office, leaving the door open, and, before attending to work of her own, sent Ed a text message. It was a routine check-in, but Olivia noticed she had been sending them more and more lately, especially when she was frustrated. He reported he and the twins were on their way to the toddler gym, and he included a photo of Maggie and Wyatt in the stroller bundled in their parkas, hats, and mittens. They were both wearing jeans and combat-style boots, and they smiled jubilantly for the camera. Olivia gazed at the image for an inordinate amount of time. With each passing day, she became more certain that retirement was the right decision.

An incoming call interrupted her daydream. She picked up, listened, pinched her nose, and sighed.

"Okay, yes," she said to the caller, "I understand. I'll stay away from there. And, um, I should be the one to tell Ed." She paused for a response. "Thank you again."

Olivia felt terrible about making Ed unpack the twins when he was probably a couple blocks from their building, but she didn't want the news to leak and get to him via a television monitor or a phone alert. She quickly gathered her things and left for home.

….

Ed's grip on her elbow betrayed his uneasiness. Olivia wished she'd insisted on a hug or a kiss before he crossed the street and went back inside IAB headquarters for more grilling from Group One. After all, who cared if they were seen now? She peered at the building. Its windows appeared as menacing and austere as the investigators who worked inside, or, at least, most of them. Ed, her Ed, no longer fit that description. He was loving, charming, gallant, and honest, and she hated seeing him forced into the role of the accused.

She stood on the street, blowing hot bursts of annoyed air into the gray Manhattan day, and determined her next moves. It was Saturday, and she was not expected at Community Affairs until the beginning of next week. With any luck, she could work from the sidelines, make some convincing headway, and avoid having to show up there at all. Her phone vibrated and she read the latest updates from Sergeant Dodds. So far, he didn't have much news, and she told him to let her know as soon as they had a location for Sister Nina. The nun had sounded truly terrified when she called earlier. Olivia was obviously concerned for her safety, but Nina, out of fear, was also withholding crucial information. She had hold of a string that could unravel this mess, and Olivia needed her back as soon as possible.

After checking in with Lucy and Noah, Olivia went to a nearby bar to decompress and wait for Ed.

…..

Ed considered leaving the twins in the stroller, but he knew in his gut Olivia would come home bearing some ugly news. She had assured him it wasn't about their kids, so he was more curious than nervous.

Maggie and Wyatt appeared confused as Ed removed their outerwear. Ed tossed the parkas into the empty stroller. Maggie grabbed hers and tried to put it on again.

"Da! Go!"

"We'll go later, Maggie May," he picked her up and held her over his head. "Mama's comin' home for a few minutes."

To entice the twins to their play area, Ed put two bowls of snacks and their sippy cups on the train table. "Fiss!" Wyatt exclaimed when he saw his favorite Goldfish crackers. "Fiss!" Ed sat on the floor. Maggie brought him toys; Wyatt offered a handful of Goldfish. Ed opened his mouth and Wyatt fed him the fish one by one.

"Thanks, bud."

By the time Olivia arrived, the twins had created their own gym obstacles with their miniature armchairs and their Daddy. They looped around, climbing over the chairs and then barrel-rolling over Ed's chest.

Everyone was, of course, happy to see Olivia, but Ed's smile was inquisitive and his kiss was hesitant. She guided him to the kitchen by the elbow.

"It's your cousin, Eugene," she said without wasting any time, "He was found this morning, hanging in his room at the rectory. He killed himself, Ed."

At first, his expression turned completely blank and emotionless. Since the scandal, Ed's cousin had been shuffled around from parish to parish, but had recently been quietly placed back in New York at large Queens congregation where he could hide among four other priests. Ed knew this only because his mother took it upon herself to keep him abreast of any and all details involving both their immediate and extended family, even when it involved the man who had very nearly ended Ed's career.

"Can't say I'm upset," Ed sniffed."

"Me neither." Olivia rubbed his forearms.

He sucked in his cheeks and looked back at the twins. "Do you haveta go back right away?"

"No. You want to sit?" She stepped toward the living room.

"I, uh, I'm gonna go up and tell my mother."

A little surprised, Olivia raised her eyebrows and mumbled, "Okay."

"I won't be long."

She had to fight a bit to make eye contact. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he kissed her forehead, "Thanks for thinkin to tell me first. I want to tell her first before she hears it through the grapevine is all. I'll call Sarah and Brooke on the way."

…..

The news and future implications of Sister Nina's death did not fully resonate with Olivia until she was back home on Sunday afternoon. She made Dodds give her all the gruesome details, and she shuddered when she thought of the final moments of Sister Nina's existence—raped, beaten, and begging for her life at the hands of a man disguised as someone she should have been able to trust.

Lucy had fed Noah lunch and put him down for a nap by the time Olivia arrived at the apartment. Lucy had been under strict orders not to allow anyone into the building, or, if someone managed to sidestep the doorman, she was to immediately call 911 if she heard so much as a knock at the door. Ed was coming over, but Olivia gave him Lucy's number and told him to call her if he arrived first.

Alone in the quiet apartment, Olivia opened a fresh bottle of wine, poured a glass, and sat on the couch staring at the baby monitor. She had already checked Noah's window locks even though it would've taken someone with Spiderman skills to approach his room. While she waited for Ed, she mentally sorted through the case details and seethed. She couldn't believe how One PP and the DA's office could be so obtuse. Ed, a sex trafficker? Right. It was so obvious he was being set up; if he'd been framed by anyone other than members of the clergy, he would have been with her right now instead of handing in his weapon, shield, and answering more questions, this time at the DA's office.

Suddenly, flames of panic scorched the upper part of her chest. She scrolled through her phone. Her last exchange with Ed had occurred shortly after he left that morning. The two of them had spent half the night brooding and the other half having angry, torrid sex. He left for his apartment and a change of clothes as the sun was rising. Olivia was still half-asleep, so he gave her a quick goodbye kiss and sent a text an hour later.

"I'll be back as soon as I'm done."

"Okay. Keep me posted. I told Lucy we would call her and, otherwise, not to let anyone in."

"Hopefully I won't be long."

That was hours ago.

Where was he?

"I told him to keep me posted," she murmured to herself as she started pacing the living room. Images of Sister Nina's bullet-riddled face flashed in front of her eyes. Then, the face wasn't Nina's, but Ed's. What if he'd been forced into a van, tortured, shot or stabbed, and left for dead in a remote area? She pictured his face lifeless and ashen, devoid of the smirk and perpetually flushed cheeks. She imagined the medical examiner noting scratches and bruises on his arms and hands, indicating he'd fought back, that he'd tried to get away and come home to her and to Noah.

Leaning against the window sill, she closed her eyes and tried to take deep breaths, but her lungs constricted and she managed only brief, sharp inhalations. She wanted to cry but couldn't cry; the feeling of impending tragedy suppressed tears. For the next several minutes, she was sure Ed was gone; she was going to have to bury the man she loved…before she'd mustered the nerve to tell him she did, in fact, love him.

She loosened her death grip on the ledge and dragged herself back to the couch. She grabbed her wine glass and her phone.

No answer.

Morbid prediction bolstered, she let her body fall backwards and pressed her eyes closed, finally feeling the burn of tears. Then, a burst of resolve supplanted her despair. She jolted up and resumed pacing.

D.A.'s office.

Call them first.

It would've taken him no time to turn in his shield and gun.

Barba's phone rang and went to voicemail.

"Dammit," she muttered. Don't they know he's a target? Evil people are coming after him and they not only take his weapon but they think he's one of them? She dialed again. Barba was going to have to forget about whatever he was doing and pick up the damn phone. Still no answer. She searched for other direct numbers and considered alternatives. Who could she call at One PP? Did she have Cole's number? What—

Her phone vibrated in her hand.

Someone was calling back.

When she saw "Ed Tucker" on the screen she felt relief much like she'd experienced at the end of Noah's emergency room visits.

"Ed."

"Liv, hey, sorry, D.A.'s had me in there all this time. I'm just now gettin' a chance to call you back, but I'm leaving now. I'll stop at home and be there soon."

"Okay," she said weakly, "I was getting worried."

"I'm fine. Gimme about forty-five minutes."

Hurry, she silently pleaded. Please hurry. She clawed at her forehead and took a long drink of the wine.

"Want me to bring ya anything?" He asked, filling the silence.

"No…no…I'm good."

"We can order in later."

"Okay."

"You want me to stay on the phone?"

"No…that's okay." He must have stepped outside because Olivia now heard street noise in the background. "See you soon."

"Yep," he said, reading her mind, "I'll hurry."

…

Olivia phoned Carisi, gave him the news, and told him she was taking the rest of the afternoon off. He sounded shocked, but also reported the Hills were in custody and on their way to arraignment. It was likely they would either be released on their own recognizance or be granted a low bail; the media frenzy had died down, and, for the moment, things were quiet. Next she spoke with Rollins, thanked her for stepping in for the afternoon and evening, and promised to make it up to her the following weekend.

"No big deal, Lieutenant," she said breezily, "This was my weekend anyway, it'll just start a little early. Take care of your family."

Olivia thanked her again, changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, and distracted herself by playing with the rambunctious twins until it was time for lunch and their nap. She gave them each extra snuggles before tucking their blankets around their little bodies and flipping the switch on the planetarium projector.

"I love you, sweet twins," she cooed on her way out.

As she closed the door, she heard Maggie's soft reply.

"Oooooo…"

The moment of sweet serenity was short-lived. Olivia collapsed on the couch and thought about Ed's reaction. He had been sullen, almost despondent, and it surprised her. She wasn't sure what she expected, but, in a way, she was disappointed he had wanted to immediately leave rather than talk to her and mutually sort through emotions.

Shortly after Ed broke the news to Caroline, she asked him to drive her to her sister's home. Ed hadn't seen his aunt in years-he'd been closer to the Tucker side of the family—and, once inside her home, he felt obligated to stay a while.

On the phone, Olivia was understanding. "Of course, sweetie," she said, "Stay as long as you need."

"I'm sorry," he said, "Once again…Eugene fucks things up for us."

"Ed, honey, it's one afternoon. Take care of your mother and your aunt. And we'll see you later. I love you."

"Love you, too."

Olivia hung up. The twins would probably sleep until it was time to pick up Noah from school, and she briefly considered going back into their room and springing Maggie who was probably still awake anyway. She didn't want to be alone with her thoughts. She didn't want to think of Eugene hanging in a small, sparsely furnished church bedroom. Most of all, she wanted to hear Ed's voice, even if it was him venting his feelings and making little sense.

Through her work and his time as a negotiator, neither she nor he were strangers to suicide, but for some reason Eugene taking his own life deeply bothered Ed.

Maybe he went to see his mother so he didn't have to be vulnerable. So he could assume his familiar and more comfortable role as the stalwart, rock-solid, man rather than a surviving relative who needed comfort even though he wasn't particularly sad that the deceased was gone.

How should one mourn a person who had done evil deeds?

Though she had no idea about Eugene's relationship with his mother, she was certain the woman had assumed she would die before her son. No parent, no matter what age, should have to bury a child. Surely, Eugene had friends, confidantes, and people who would miss him. Her heart ached for them, especially since they most likely did not know of or understand the pain that led Eugene to the life-ending decision.

Olivia turned her phone around and around in one hand. She felt tinges of anxiety in her belly and tried to abandon thoughts of death—they inevitably led to fears of her family's mortality, particularly hers and Ed's. They had what? Twenty years left? Thirty? Would one of them be stricken with an illness? Would their idyllic lives be cut short?

It was all too much.

Olivia peeked in at the twins. Wyatt was conked out. Maggie's eyelids were droopy and she was holding her baby. She noticed her mother though, immediately scrambled to her feet, lost her balance, and staggered backwards. Before she fell, Olivia caught her.

"C'mere, sweet girl," she whispered. "Let Mommy rock you for a while."

Maggie lightly smacked her lips, clutched the baby, and put her head on Olivia's shoulder without protest.

…..

#Tuckson