The next morning, Liz shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. Alan stood at the sink, steaming cup of coffee in his hand. "Liz, good morning."

"Hi, Alan. You're up early."

"I went to bed earlier than anyone else. Help yourself to coffee. I'm just getting ready to make French toast. Would you like some?"

"I'd love some," Liz said, pouring herself a mug of coffee. "I think I'll be out of your hair later today."

Alan took a carton of eggs from the refrigerator. "Now that statement puts me in a rather difficult situation. I'm glad there's no need to have a live-in FBI agent – other than Don, of course. But on the other hand, I don't want to make it sound like I'll be glad to be rid of you."

"Don't worry," Liz said with a chuckle, "I understand.

"So, how did everything go last night?" Alan asked as he cracked eggs into a shallow bowl.

"You mean this morning? Charlie wanted to go to the office and show David his latest findings."

"And David wasn't all that interested?"

"He was interested. But he and Colby were ready to call it a night. And to be honest, Charlie was running on fumes, too. He didn't put up much of an argument when David told him it could wait until morning."

Alan laughed as he beat the eggs gently with a fork. "Even the Energizer bunny runs down eventually." He glanced up at the ceiling, "I don't hear a sound from upstairs. I think both bunnies have run down."

"I think you're right. Don was sleeping like a log when…" she paused, blushing.

"We're all grownups here, Liz. What? You think I assumed you guys end every date with a kiss goodnight on the front steps?" Alan began heating the skillet.

"Uh, no… I just…"

"You have a good upbringing, and were taught not to discuss such things with parents. Did Donnie sleep well last night?"

Liz shrugged. "He tossed and turned a couple of times, but other than that, he slept well. He felt a little warm. I hope he's not coming down with an infection."

"We'll keep an eye on him for the next couple of days. I'll make sure he stays here for a few days if I have to hide his car keys. Would you hand me the butter?"

"Sure," Liz said as she handed Alan the butter dish. "And I won't offer him a ride home until he has your approval."

Alan lifted his coffee cup in a toast. "Deal." He put down his cup and began cutting pats of butter and dropping them onto the warm skillet.

"You don't put milk in the eggs?"

"Nope. Just eggs. Why? You like it with milk?"

"It doesn't matter. My mom always used milk. I've never made French toast myself."

Alan dipped a slice of bread into the eggs, turned it over and then eased it into the sizzling butter. "Would you mind getting the syrup? It's in the cupboard behind you."

"No problem. Want me to set the table?"

"That would be nice. How many pieces would you like, to start with?"

"Two would be great. Maybe I'll have more with Don when he gets up."

"Two it is. But don't count on either of those boys being up before lunchtime."

"Good point." Liz took the syrup, plates and silverware into the dining room.

When Alan came in, carrying a platter of steaming French toast and the butter dish, Liz was studying the pictures on the buffet. She picked up a framed photograph of a baby standing shakily. He was steadying himself with one hand on the couch. "Don?"

Alan put down what he was carrying and looked over Liz's shoulder. "Yes it is. He was determined even then. He walked before he hit nine months. Charlie," Alan picked up a photo of a curly haired cherub, "he didn't walk until he was a year old."

Liz chuckled as she replaced the photo. "He was probably thinking important thoughts instead of wasting time walking."

A footstep creaked on the stairway, causing them both to look up. A bleary-eyed Don walked gingerly down the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing. "Hey, you two talking about me?"

"Hey, Don. You need a hand?" Liz started up the stairs.

"Nah. I've got it." He stopped and sniffed the air, a smile crossing his face. "Pancakes?"

"Afraid not," Alan said, "French toast. But if you give me a few minutes, I can make pancakes."

"French toast is fine with me. And coffee. Lots of coffee," Don said, easing himself into the nearest dining room chair.

"Your wish is my command," Liz placed a kiss on the top of Don's head. "Splenda, no cream, right?"

"You got it," Don rubbed his belly and winced. "And whatever painkillers I'm allowed to take."

Alan and Liz both checked their watches. "I think we can arrange a nice Oxycontin for you," Liz said. "Alan, you sit. I'll take care of the invalid."

"Invalid, huh?" Don said, shaking his head. "See that, Dad? I get no respect from my team."

"But you do get something better," Alan said with a smirk. "How are you feeling, Son? Liz said you felt a little warm. And Dr. Torre did say there's a risk of infection…"

"Dad, they filled me so full of antibiotics in the hospital, I doubt…" Don paused, studying his father's expression. "Go ahead, feel my forehead." He leaned forward and let Alan press his palm to his forehead.

Liz returned with a mug of coffee and a prescription bottle. "My mom had a built in thermometer in her hand too."

"You were right, Liz. He is warm."

Don sighed. "I'll call the doctor when his office opens, okay?"

Liz handed Don the cup and opened the pill bottle. "You have him well trained, Alan."

"It's just because you're here, my dear. He doesn't want you to see him pouting."

Don rolled his eyes as he took the pill from Liz. "See what I have to put up with?"

"Poor baby. You're lucky to have a dad who worries about you."

The scent of freshly brewed coffee woke Amita. She snuggled up against Charlie's back and wrapped her arm around him, carefully avoiding his injured arm. Except for a deep breath, he didn't even stir. She placed a gentle kiss on the back of his neck and eased herself out of bed.

Once she was dressed, she bent and kissed him again and quietly left the room. Don, Alan and Liz looked up to greet her as she walked down the stairs. Alan stood. "Amita, grab a cup of coffee and have a seat. Would you like French toast?"

"I'd love some. But don't go to any trouble on my account."

"No trouble at all. Everything's all ready to go," Alan said on his way to the kitchen.

Don grinned. "I think he's enjoying being Suzy Homemaker. Is Chuck still sleeping?"

Liz reached for the syrup. "I thought he'd be up at the crack of dawn to tell David his findings."

Amita laughed. "He probably would have if it hadn't been the crack of dawn when he finally fell asleep."

Don leaned forward and whispered, "So what did he find out that he was so anxious to share with David?"

"Donald Spencer, Greg Spencer's dad and Ellen Davis's brother, is a lowlife. But David knew that when he emailed his file. Charlie found out that Donald Spencer has a drug problem."

"So?" Don asked "What difference does that make?"

"He was making money dealing drugs, but because he was a user, he skimmed some of the goods. From Yang Chaoxiang."

Liz looked confused. "I thought Yang was into stolen goods."

"He runs a diversified business," Charlie said from the stairway.

"Charlie!" Amita stood and hurried to his side. "Let me give you a hand. I thought you were still sleeping."

"I can make it myself," Charlie said, mildly irritated. "It's just my arm."

Amita took a step away from him. "Sorry. Hey, I was just telling Don and Liz about your findings."

"I heard." He reddened and reached for her hand. "I'm sorry. I'm a little cranky this morning."

"A little?" Don scoffed. "You didn't have to bite her head off. So, it looks like you found out how Ellen got involved."

Charlie shrugged and winced as he sat. "It's speculation so far, but mathematically it makes sense. I need to sit down with David and Colby. And Megan." He grinned. "It's good to see her back, isn't it? Too bad Larry wasn't here to greet her."

"When is Larry coming back?" Alan returned from the kitchen, carrying a platter of steaming French toast. "I miss having someone I can beat at chess."

"I'll bet you could beat Don," Charlie smirked.

"He won't play any more. Here, you folks help yourself. I need to grab the coffee.

Charlie glanced at Don. "Chicken."

"Hey, if you play him in Scrabble, I'll play him in chess."

"No way!" Charlie shook his head as he reached for the syrup. "Scrabble is evil."

"Only to the illiterate," Don said with a laugh.

----------------------------

"Thank you! You're a lifesaver!" Megan took the cup of coffee David offered.

"Did you go home at all?" David asked as he dropped into his seat.

"I have a lot of catching up to do." Megan lifted the lid from the cup and inhaled the scent deeply. "Caramel macchiato! You remembered!"

"Even after all this time. It does seem like forever, doesn't it?"

"More than you know," Megan said sadly.

After an awkward few moments of silence, David asked, "Have you seen Colby yet?"

"He's with Betty Liu. She's filling him in on the Chinese gang connection."

"I brought him coffee too," David said, lifting his own cup from the cardboard tray and setting the remaining cup on Colby's desk.

Megan grinned. "You're a nice boss."

"Keep that up and I'll take the coffee back," David growled. "Don's the boss. And if you'd been here where you belonged when he got shot, you'd be running his team."

"You're doing a good job, David. But we both know this is Don's team, and he'll have our butts if we don't wrap this up nice and neat with a bow on top." She nodded at the computer monitor. "Which is why I've been here all night. Have you heard from Charlie?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing." David picked up the phone. "You think it's too early to call him?"

Megan checked her watch. "If he wants to sleep, he should turn his phone off. Give him a try. And put it on speaker."

"Yes ma'am," David chuckled.

They stared at the phone and waited for Charlie to pick it up. "He must be asleep," Megan said.

Suddenly, the ringing stopped and a breathless voice said, "Charles Eppes."

"Charlie!" Megan said, "It's Megan and David. Did we wake you up?"

Charlie's voice was surrounded by background noise. "Uh, no. I was just going through security. It just took a while to grab my phone. Are you in the office?"

"We're here," David said. "I hear you've got something for us. Will we be able to wrap this case up and hand it to Don with a bow on top?"

Don's voice came through the phone, "You'd better!"

David and Megan exchanged glances. "Don?" David said. "You coming back to take over?"

"No such luck, Buddy," Don laughed. "We're getting into the elevator now. See you in a minute. That'll give you time to get out of my chair."

"Nah, Don," Megan said, "Granger's taken over your chair."

-----------------------

A few moments later, the elevator door opened, and Charlie, Don, and Liz entered the bullpen. "Hey, guys," Megan said. "I knew you couldn't stay away."

"It's Charlie's fault," Don said as he eased himself into his chair. "He wanted to tell you in person."

Charlie, his right arm in his sling, was fumbling with his computer bag. "It's not really big on its own. But it's the key to everything else." He gave up on getting his computer out and sat down on the corner of David's desk. "You sent me the file on Greg Spencer's lowlife father, Donald Spencer."

"Right," David said, "Ellen Davis's brother."

"When I entered his information into my program, I discovered something we had all missed before. Donald Spencer has a connection with Yang Chaoxiang's illegal drug business."

"Okay," David said, "let's get Colby and Betty in here to discuss this." He picked up the phone and dialed Betty Liu's extension. "Hey, Betty, this is David Sinclair. We've just found out about a connection between Yang and the brother of our dead art thief…. Yeah….. Would you like us to come to your office or you want to come here?.... Okay, see you in a few minutes." He hung up the phone. "Betty and Colby will be here in a minute. Why don't we hold off until they get here?"

Charlie took the opportunity to wrestle his laptop from its case, with a little help from Megan. "Where's Amita?" Megan asked.

"She's at CalSci," Charlie said with a grin. "She's covering my classes as well as handling her own. There's something to be said for medical leave."

"Medical leave, and yet here you are, working just as hard as you were before." David chuckled. "Let's hope the AD doesn't see you two. Especially you," he said with a nod at Don.

Charlie glanced nervously at Don. "Are you going to get in trouble? I told you you didn't have to come…"

"Nah. No trouble at all. There's no problem with a victim stopping by to see how the case against his perpetrators is going. Right, David?"

David shook his head. "Makes sense to me. Let's hope we don't have to see if it makes sense to AD Wright." He glanced up to see Colby and Betty approaching.

Colby grinned. "Don! Whiz Kid! How's it going?"

Don stood. "I hear this is your chair now, Granger."

"Uh, no. You sit." He glared at Megan. "Where'd you get that idea, Boss?"

"Just a rumor I heard." He turned to Betty. "Hey, Betty. How's it going with the gang angle?"

"It's going great, Don." She turned to Charlie, "And you must be Dr. Eppes. I'm Betty Liu. I've heard wonderful things about your work."

Charlie blushed happily as he shook her hand. "Thank you. And please call me Charlie."

Betty pulled over a chair and sat. "So, Charlie, what do you have for us?"

"The first painting was stolen by a woman named Ellen Spencer. She was later murdered. We thought the murder was connected with the gang that stole the paintings, but I discovered a connection between Ellen's brother Donald and your gang leader, Yang Chaoxiang that's totally unrelated to the art theft."

"Really?" Betty leaned forward. "What connection?"

"Were you aware of Yang's involvement in illegal drugs?"

"Of course. It's one of his bit profit centers. Donald Spencer was involved with drugs?"

Don nodded. "Strictly smalltime. He's a junkie who got a nice job pushing for Yang. But our boy is no rocket scientist. He was shorting Yang's customers to feed his own habit."

"And Yang was understandably unhappy," Betty said with a nod. "So he got Ellen involved in the art gang?"

Charlie shook his head. "The data don't support that conclusion. I don't think Donald even knew about the art theft ring. I think it's more likely that neither Ellen nor Donald knew about the other's involvement. Until Donald saw the news coverage about the theft."

Liz nodded. "They showed some of the security camera footage on the news. You think Donald saw that and recognized his sister?"

Charlie turned to Betty. "It's all speculation, of course. But I believe Donald killed his own sister to steal the painting for himself."

"You think he's going to sell it to pay his debt to Yang? Or was he buying himself some life insurance? Using the painting to keep Yang from killing him?"

Charlie shrugged. "I don't have enough data, but I think the connection is worth pursuing."

Betty glanced from Don to Liz. "You two agree with Charlie's assessment?"

Liz grinned. "I never understand how he gets there, but Charlie's assessments are usually right."

Don chuckled. "Who knows where it'll lead, but it is definitely worth pursuing. What evidence did they get from the fast food place where they found Ellen Davis's body?"

Megan turned to her computer. "Not much. It looks like she was killed where they found her. Her car was pulled alongside a dumpster. The door was open. The conclusion was that she parked beside the dumpster and got out of the car, probably meeting her killer."

"Fingerprints?"

"Nothing unexpected." Megan paused and smiled. "But look at this. Inside her car were prints of Ellen's family and friends."

"Including her brother?" Don asked.

"Including her brother."

Author's note: If you go back through the chapters or have an exceptionally good memory (better than mine!) you'll know that I've described Greg Spencer as Ellen Davis's cousin. Well, pretend that never happened. Through the magic of fiction, Greg is now Ellen's nephew.