A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Things are going to heat up a little bit, I think. There may be a surprise or two, unless you saw it coming. I really hope you didn't see it coming though. Surprises are so much fun!

Chapter 7

"You know, I'm surprised you're back at work so soon," Officer Harrison said to Emmie.

She looked up from the parking ticket she was writing. "Really Harry, why's that?" She went back to writing.

"Are you serious? Some pervert drugs your beer and you find out you have a stalker? I'd be in hiding."

"If I go into hiding, the stalker wins, right?" Emmie tore the ticket out of her book and put it under the windshield wiper. "Besides," she continued as she joined her temporary partner on the sidewalk, "it could be worse."

Harrison nodded and they walked down the block. "I know, poor Soloman. I wish I could help find out who did it."

"That's gonna be up to the detectives," Emmie said. "They're the same ones working on my case; they're pretty bright."

Harrison looked at Emmie. "Do they think the cases are related?"

Emmie shrugged. "I don't know."

They came to a stop on the corner of 125th and Madison. Emmie leaned back against the corner of the building, looking across 125th Street.

"I'm sorry if I'm being too forward," Harrison continued talking. "I know I'm not your steady partner. But we all work together out here, right? And I mean, if someone's after cops, we're all in the same boat, right?"

Emmie wasn't looking at him. She was staring across the street.

"Handsen?"

"That's him," she said. She sounded like she didn't believe it.

"Who?"

"White guy, black t-shirt, blue jeans, at the table across the street, selling I love NY shirts. That's the asshole who drugged me."

"Are you sure? I thought you didn't get a look—"

"I saw the security tape," she said. "You go around that way. I'm gonna come up from behind."

"Show New York how much you love us, buy a shirt!" Joshua shouted as people passed by. "Don't leave our great city without a great souvenir!"

As Joshua turned to his table, he caught sight of the approaching cop.

"You got your vendor's license?" Harrison called out.

"Aw, man," Joshua muttered. He reached to his pocket, then spun around ready to run—

"Don't move!" Emmie bellowed. She worked hard to keep her hands from shaking as she pointed her Glock at Joshua. "Give me a reason," she whispered as she closed in. The barrel was inches from Joshua's chest. "One reason, you son of a bitch."

Joshua smiled. "I'll come quietly, officer." He cooperatively put his hands behind his back and Harrison cuffed him.

Emmie shut the cell door and pulled out her cell phone. "As soon as your prints are verified I'll send you downtown," she told Joshua.

"Are you gonna tell me what I was arrested for?"

"Vending without a license." Emmie left the holding room and dialed a number. "Hey, Jake, it's Emmie. I need a favor. I just sent some prints and I need them pushed to the front. . . Yeah, I need them run against all active cases. . . Okay, thanks."

"We're from Major Case, looking for Officer Handsen."

Emmie looked toward the front desk at the sound of Eames voice. "Detectives." She waved them over. When they reached her, she indicated the holding cell. "Look familiar? He's a vendor, sells t-shirts down on 125th."

"What'd you charge him with?" Goren asked.

"Unlicensed vending," Emmie told him. "I know, I'm personally involved so I couldn't charge him with the assault."

"Handsen!"

"Excuse me," Emmie said. "What's up, Sarge?"

"Is there a reason your partner has decided not grace us with his presence today?"

"I'll try calling him again Sarge," she said.

Stepping around the corner, Emmie pulled out her cell again and hit a speed dial number. On the third ring she heard the line connect. She didn't wait for him to say hello.

"Rick! Where are you? Sergeant Phelps is pissed!"

"Oh, hello, Emmie, is it?"

"Nicole?"

"Rick isn't going to make it into work today," she said, sounding quite pleased with herself.

"What have done to him?"

"Nothing yet," Nicole said. "He's just. . . napping right now."

"You bitch, I swear to God if anything happens to—"

"Then I propose a switch. I've got your partner. . . and you've got mine."

"Joshua?"

"I want him back, I don't care what you have to do."

"Come on Nicole, I know you're not that crazy. Even if I wanted to, there's nothing I can do. I can't just let him walk out."

"You wouldn't risk your job to save your partner's life? Partner in more ways than one, I understand."

"What do you want, Nicole? Why are you doing this to me?"

There was a pause. Emmie thought she had hung up for a moment.

"We'll make another switch, then," she finally said. "I'll give you Rick. And you give me. . . you."

"What?"

"Water Street, under the Brooklyn Bridge. Midnight."

"You have got to be kidding."

"You want him to be okay, right?"

Nicole hung up. Emmie looked at the phone, as though she could reconnect the line. Then the rage exploded. It was almost as if it happened in slow motion. She dropped her phone. It hit the floor and bounced in one direction while the battery went in another. But Emmie was already fifteen feet away and didn't even notice. She hadn't even noticed that she'd moved until she was opening the door to Joshua's cell. No one else realized what was happening until she had gone into the cell and took Joshua down to the floor. Before Goren and Eames, who were closest, got to the cell Emmie had him in a painful armlock.

"Where are they?" she screamed. "Where does she have him?"

"Ow! Ow! I don't know!! I swear, I don't know!"

"Don't lie to me, you son of a bitch!"

"Emmie! Emmie, get off of him!" Goren had gotten there first, but he didn't want to get in the middle of the altercation just yet. Not only because he sided with Emmie and could relate with her frustration, but also for such a small person she packed a mean punch. Joshua was six feet, two-twenty easy, and she'd just taken him down by herself.

"What the hell?" Sergeant Phelps elbowed his way into the small holding room which was packed with cops. "Someone get her out of there!"

Before anyone could touch her, Emmie let got of Joshua and stood up. Joshua scrambled to his feet and backed into the corner of the cell.

"That bitch is crazy! Don't let her near me again! I'm filing a complaint!"

"About what?" Phelps asked. "I didn't see anything. Anyone see anything?"

There was a general agreement of "no" and everyone filed out of the room.

"Handsen!" Phelps barked. "Office! Now!"

The fire not quite put out, Emmie went to the Sergeants' office, followed closely by Phelps, and by Goren and Eames.

Phelps slammed the door. "What the HELL was that about?"

Emmie looked instead to the two detectives. "I just called Rick's cell, Wallace answered. She's pissed because I arrested Joshua. She's got Rick, she's got Rick."

Phelps' angry face softened. "Are you sure?"

Emmie looked at her sergeant. "Sarge. Sh-She's holding him to trade. . . F-For me."

"Where's your phone?" Goren asked.

"I-I don't know, I dropped it," Emmie said. "Around the corner." She pointed. Goren went out the door.

"Nicole Wallace, that's the perp you brought in the other day," Phelps said.

Emmie nodded.

"What does she want with you?"

Emmie shook her head and wiped her eyes.

A cell phone chirped. Eames pulled her phone out and stepped out of the room. "Eames."

"Sarge. . ." Emmie looked up at her boss, tears still flowing down her cheeks. "What do we do?"

Goren entered the office, on his phone, putting the battery back into Emmie's phone. "Okay." He looked at Emmie. "What's your cell number?"

"917-555-8939."

"You got that?" Goren said into his phone. "Okay. Yeah. Thanks." He ended his call. "Okay, TARU is looking into your cell. They'll get the location the last call originated from. They should at least be able to get the cell tower. If she calls again, they can get an exact location." He decided not to mention that Nicole was probably too smart for that and would somehow compensate, having foreseen what steps they would take.

Eames stepped back into the office. "That was latent," she said. "This mutt's prints popped as a match to the prints they pulled off of the bottles from the Soloman crime scene."

"So this is the asshole that killed Jamie?" Emmie burst out.

"Oh Christ," Phelps breathed.

"We don't know that yet," Goren said. "Look, he's in custody. He's not going anywhere. Right now we have to focus on Rick. Emmie, when was the last time you saw him?"

"When you called me," she answered. "We were playing video games at my place, I left him there when I came in to your office. Didn't you put a tail on her? Wouldn't they have seen. . ."

"Shorthanded, they pulled the cops off the detail this morning," Eames said.

"Shit," Phelps breathed.

"What did Nicole say to you?" Goren asked. "She wants to exchange you for Rick, how is this supposed to happen?"

"Uhh. . . Water Street under the Brooklyn Bridge at midnight," Emmie told him.

"I'd better go brief the Duty Captain," Phelps said. He left the office and closed the door behind him.

Emmie sank into a chair, put her elbows on the desk and held her head in her hands.

"Emmie." Goren pulled a chair close and sat next to her. "The more you tell us about everything, the more effective we can be."

Emmie wiped her eyes again. She took a breath in an attempt to calm herself. "I have suspicions, but that's about all. Nothing really concrete."

"Why were you researching her?"

Emmie took another deep breath. "My father was never in my life. I don't know who he is; he isn't listed on my birth certificate and my mother didn't tell me too much about him. I know he had been in the army and they had met when my mother lived in Pennsylvania. My mother died when I was fifteen. When I was going through everything, I found some letters she had saved. One was from Mark Brady. It was some nonsense about not being able to spare any money for us. It sounded like she had contacted him. I found another letter from Nancy Wallace. I guess she was an old girlfriend of his, she was offering some kind of emotional support or something. She said she knew what my mother had gone through and if she wanted to talk, she could talk to her. I went to the library and looked up the names, but couldn't find much. Mark Brady, well there's tons of Mark Brady's out there, and the only thing I knew about Nancy Wallace was that her letter was postmarked from Australia."

Emmie paused and took a few breaths. "So when I got hired here, well we have excellent databases. Mark Brady- I knew he was older than my mother and he'd been in the army in the 60's, and he originated from Brooklyn. That brought me to Mark Ford Brady. When I realized who he was. . . Well I wasn't about to get in contact with him. The search on Nancy Wallace from Australia gave me a death certificate, but also a birth certificate- for Nicole Wallace. Her father is listed on her birth certificate."

"Mark Ford Brady," Goren said.

Emmie nodded. "Yeah," she said quietly. "If we haven't found her by 11, I'm going to meet her."

Goren nodded. He knew there'd be no talking her out of it. He'd do the same thing.

So what'd you think? Were you surprised? Loved it? Hated it? Let me know! Thanks!