Author's notes: I'm baaaaack (LOL) from my business trips to Denver and Jacksonville. My apologies for taking a month (gasp!) to post the next chapter. I do not carry a laptop with me when I travel, so I save my writing for when I return back home. Anywho, look for the crazy people to show up in the next chapter. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review this story. LO:CI and its characters belong to Dick Wolf and company; I'm just taking them for a little spin in my imagination. Any and all mistakes made are my own. There's some gushy/fluffy stuff in here (you've been warned LOL). Read, review and enjoy! :o)

Monday, August 21
1PP, MCS, 6:05 p.m.

"How's Angel?" Megan Wheeler asked as Bobby and Alex walked into the squad room. Bobby sighed. "She's okay so far. Dr. Morton won't know anything until she gets the lab tests back," he said. "We've got her listed at the hospital under an assumed name for now," Alex said. Megan nodded in understanding. She looked down and noticed Bobby's bandaged hand. "Goren, what happened to your hand?" He held it up and said, "Hulk smash."

Megan looked puzzled, looking at Alex for an explanation. Alex shook her head and said, "You don't want to know." Megan frowned slightly, still a little confused by the "Hulk smash" comment. She reached into her bottom desk drawer, pulling out Angel's backpack purse, handing it to Alex. "Angel's cell phone has been ringing off and on for a while now. At least since she was taken to the hospital anyway." Alex opened the purse and pulled out the phone. She flipped it open, scrolling through the missed calls list with Bobby looking over her shoulder.

Alex shook her head as she read the list. "God, Janelle's called at least 15 times," she said softly. She looked up at Bobby. "Loretta told me that when T. J. died, Janelle was devastated. She and T. J. were very close. Angel being hurt and in a hospital? This will kill her." Bobby remained silent, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Thanks, Wheeler," Alex said. Megan smiled and nodded her head. "You're welcome." Alex turned to Bobby and said, "Come on, Goren. Let's go catch us some bad guys."

Bobby and Alex walked into the observation area that was between the interrogation rooms. Ross was standing there, watching Richard Hall chew nervously on his fingernails. He turned his head to look at his detectives. "How's Ms. Pierson-St. John?" he asked. "Okay so far," Alex replied. "Dr. Morton will let us know what's going on soon." Ross nodded. He pointed with his head and said, "Meet Richard Alan Hall, a.k.a. Richie Rich. He's been biting on his nails like that ever since he was brought in." "Guilt must bring out that nervous habit," Bobby said as he looked at the suspect. Ross looked at Bobby, noticing his injured hand. He mentally sighed as he rubbed his forehead. "I have got to find out what's going on with him," he said to himself.

Alex held a small evidence bag up in front of Ross' face. Inside of it was a black and silver jump drive. "What's this?" he asked, taking the bag out of her hand. "That," Alex said, "is what got DeMarco Anderson killed: Frank Devlin's jump drive." Ross' eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Where in the hell did you find it?" "At Ms. Pierson-St. John's home, hidden among other jump drives she owns." Ross shook his head, looking confused. "Alright, I'm lost. How did she get it?"

"We think that Eden Anderson, the victim's sister, stole it from Devlin," Bobby said. "DeMarco Anderson in turn stole it from her and hid it at Angel…Ms. Pierson-St. John's home." Ross noticed Bobby corrected himself, but let it slide for the moment. Instead he asked, "Why do you think he hid it there? Is Ms. Pierson-St. John in on this caper?" "No, she's not. We think he hid it in the last place anybody would think to look," Alex replied. "We won't know for sure until we start rounding up suspects."

Ross sighed, handing the bag back to Alex. "Have you looked at it yet to see what's on there?" he asked. Bobby and Alex both shook their heads. "We did ask the lab to put a rush on the fingerprints that were found on it," Bobby replied. "I think it would be a good idea to let Lt. Garcia come and look at what's on that jump drive with us. Maybe he can help us with any kind of code that needs to be deciphered." Ross mulled over Bobby's suggestion for a few seconds before nodding his head. "I'll talk to Lt. Garcia while you're questioning Hall," he said.

Alex and Bobby were heading towards the door when Ross said, "Detective Goren, I'd like to have a word with you." Bobby silently mouthed "Shit!" as Alex gave him a sideways glance. "Apologize," she said softly under her breath as she walked out of the door, closing it behind her. Bobby inhaled deeply, blowing the breath out loudly before he turned around to face his captain. "Captain, about earlier today," he started to say, but Ross held up his hand to stop him. "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

Ross put his hands in his pockets, pointing with his head at Bobby's injured hand. "When you left for the hospital, you weren't injured. Now, you return and you have a bandage on your hand. Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asked. Bobby shook his head. "Uh, no…no, sir," he said. "There's nothing to tell. Just clumsiness on my part." Ross gave him a wary look. "Is there something going on in your personal life that I need to be made aware of? Anything going on between you and Ms. Pierson-St. John?"

Bobby looked down at the floor, massaging his neck with his injured hand. "What's going on between me and Angel is none of your damn business!" he thought to himself. He finally looked up at Ross, shaking his head again. "No…no, sir. There's nothing going on in my personal life or between me and Ms. Pierson-St. John," he lied. Ross softly grunted as he stared at Bobby. "One more lie like that and I think his nose will actually start growing." He sighed and said, "Alright, Detective. That's all for now. Go join your partner. We'll talk again later." Bobby nodded and quickly walked out of the room. Ross shook his head as he massaged his temples. "I swear," he said to himself, "there are some days I can't stand being captain."

Alex was walking back from her desk when Bobby came out of the observation room. She had some files and the jump drive in one hand, Bobby's binder in the other. She handed him the binder and the jump drive. "Everything okay?" she asked. Bobby nodded as he put the jump drive in the binder. "Yeah. Everything's fine," he said. "Did you apologize or at least attempt to apologize?" He sighed heavily. "Yes, I attempted to apologize, but that's not what he wanted to talk about. He wanted to know what's going on with me." Alex remained silent. She just raised an eyebrow before she headed towards the interrogation room. Bobby followed behind her.

Richard Hall a.k.a. Richie Rich jumped nervously when the interrogation room door opened. A smirk crossed his face when Alex walked into the room, but it fell away when Bobby entered the room. His eyes widen as he took in Bobby's size. Richie Rich was 28 years old, 5 foot 8, slender with short spiky blonde hair that anyone could tell came from a bottle and bright blue eyes. He sported a scraggly looking goatee and sideburns. On his neck, he had a tattoo with his alias and dollar signs and wore baggy clothes. He squirmed in his seat a little bit as Alex sat directly across from him while Bobby remained standing, leaning against the wall.

Richie looked over his shoulder at Bobby. "Why ain't you sitting down?" he asked in a whiny voice. Bobby just stared at him, not saying a word. "Don't mind my partner, Richie," Alex said as she opened his file and began flipping through the papers. "He likes to watch." A small smile flitted across Bobby's lips. She clicked her tongue and shook her head as she read his file. "Richie, Richie, Richie," she said disapprovingly. "You've been a bad boy. Boosting cars, carjacking, robbery, some drug trafficking." She clicked her tongue again. "A very bad boy indeed. Says here that you've got 2 more years of parole left."

Alex placed her hands on the table, interlacing her fingers and looked at Richie. She said, "So, do you want to go the easy route and tell us where we can find Franco Holland? Or do you want to go the hard route and we bust you for violating the terms of your parole, which will land you back in jail for at least 5 years or longer since you've been hanging around known criminals?" Richie finished biting the nail on his pinky finger before he scoffed. "Pfft! You're talking crazy, lady! I ain't done nothing wrong and I don't know where Franco is. Hell, he's probably outta the state as far as I know! You cops ain't got no right to come busting into my place and interrupting me and my woman anyways. I've been keeping outta trouble!"

Alex looked at Bobby and sighed dramatically. "Guess this means he's taking the hard route," she said. Bobby nodded, saying, "Looks like it." She pulled a piece of paper out of another file and held it up by its edges to show Richie. "What I have here is a copy of a police report about a black Hummer that was stolen this morning from Hall's Hummers and SUVs. A dealership that belongs to your brother Hal." Richie shook his head, biting his nails and shrugging. "That's got nothing to do with me! I'm just a salesman," he said.

"No, see, Richie, that's the wrong answer," Alex said sternly. She laid the report to the side and pulled out some pictures of Angel's wrecked car, laying them out before him. She pointed at each picture and said, "That stolen Hummer has EVERYTHING to do with you. It was used as a battering ram to demolish this car in a hit-and-run accident earlier today. The person or persons inside of that Hummer were trying to KILL this car's driver. I'm willing to bet when we find that Hummer and dust it for fingerprints, your grubby little paw prints will be on there as well as Franco's!"

Richie's eyes widen as he stared at the pictures. He started biting his nails and shaking his head again. "You're talking crazy again, lady," he said. He leaned forward and made the "cuckoo" sign. "I got nothing to do with this shit!" He leaned back in his chair and bit his nails, trying hard not to look at the pictures. "That's right, Richie. Keep being a hard ass," Alex said in disgust. "You go right ahead and deny knowing Franco Holland's whereabouts. We'll find him without your help. But I want you to remember this: when we find him, we'll connect you to this accident and have the charge of attempted murder added to your already long list of charges."

Richie sat there in silence, swaying from side to side and biting his nails. "I done told you, lady. I ain't got nothing to do with any of this shit!" he said with his fingers in his mouth. Alex sat back in her chair, arms folded across her chest and gave Richie her meanest look. The interrogation room door opened. It was Mike Logan. "Sorry for the interruption," he said from the doorway. "Goren, can I talk to you and Eames for a second?" Bobby pushed himself off the wall as Alex gathered up the pictures and files. "Sit tight, Richie. You'll be here a while," she said as she followed Bobby and Mike out the door.

"What's up, Logan?" Bobby asked. The group of detectives had stopped in the hall outside of the interrogation room. Mike handed him a file folder and said, "While all hell was breaking loose here, that stolen Hummer was found in a bad part of the Bronx by an old informant of mine from my early days. He and his partner managed to keep it from getting boosted until our folks got there." Logan pointed at the folder. "They saw the news reports about the accident. My informant got pictures of the Hummer's occupants as it was being ditched."

Bobby opened the file. He positioned himself so that Alex could see it, too. Inside of the folder were pictures of Eric and Eden Anderson and Franco Holland and Francisco Torres exiting and the leaving the Hummer along with pictures of the wrecked Hummer by itself. Alex looked up at Bobby and smiled. "Got 'em," she said. He smiled back, nodding. They both thanked Mike before heading towards the interrogation room. He grabbed the wrist of Bobby's injured hand and held it up. He looked at Bobby, then at the hand. Mike shook his head as a knowing smile spread over his face before letting go, not saying a word.

Alex and Bobby walked back into the interrogation room. Richie watched them warily as they assumed their previous positions. The lack of noise made him squirm in his chair. "What are you up to?" he asked with a nervous laugh. "Giving me the silent treatment to make me confess to something I know nothing about?" Bobby inhaled and exhaled deeply. "Eames, do you smell that?" he asked. "What does that smell like?" Alex sniffed the air. "Coitus interruptus?" she replied with a shrug. He chuckled lightly. "You said 'coitus.'" Richie looked back and forth at them. "Who are you guys? Beavis and Butthead?" he asked. "As a matter of fact, we are. I'm Butthead," Alex replied sarcastically.

Bobby walked towards Richie and stood behind him. "What you're actually smelling, Eames, is fear," he said. He leaned down and looked Richie in the eye. "I smell…fear on you, Richie." He straightened up and sniffed the air again. He leaned down on the other side of him and said, "I smell the fear of getting your ass kicked by your brother and going to jail." Richie laughed nervously. "Man, now you're talking crazy. I ain't scared of Hal or jail. I ain't done nothing. I don't know nothing."

Bobby took the pictures of the damaged Hummer out of the folder and laid them out in front of Richie. He looked at the pictures with fear. Bobby grunted as he walked to stand at the opposite end of the table. He watched Richie's reaction as he laid his binder and the file down on the table. "Your fear level just increased, Richie," Bobby said. "You want to tell my partner the truth now?" Richie scoffed and shook his head, pushing the pictures away from him as he bit his nails. "You found the Hummer. Big deal! I ain't got nothing to do with this damn thing getting stolen. I still don't know nothing about Franco. Nothing!"

"What's the going price for taking a human life these days, Richie?" Bobby asked quietly. Richie looked at him with a frown. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked. Bobby took the pictures of Eden and the crew out of the folder. He laid them on top of the Hummer photos. Richie turned his head to look at Bobby as he leaned down. Instead, Bobby placed his hand on the back of Richie's neck and squeezed, applying pressure to make him turn his head to look at the pictures.

"What's the going price for taking a human life?" Bobby repeated in a low voice that was tinged with anger. He tapped a picture of Franco Holland, then pointed at the individual pictures of Eden, Eric and Francisco. "The young woman they attacked today is laying in a hospital, seriously injured," he hissed. "She could die. If she does, we'll charge YOU for her murder. Then you'll really have something to fear." Richie pushed himself away from the table and out of Bobby's grasp. He jumped up and backed himself up against the wall.

"I ain't got nothing to do with that!" Richie said hysterically, pointing at the pictures. "Franco didn't say anything about killing nobody!" Bobby walked up to him, arms folded across his chest and nostrils flared. "What did Franco say?!" he snapped. Richie ran his fingers through his hair and muttered, "Oh, man" a few times.

"Look, Franco and that fucking midget Francisco came by my place last night," Richie said, looking wildly between Alex and Bobby. He took a couple of steps away from Bobby. "They told me they needed to borrow something large from Hal's lot to do a job for Frankie Devil. Franco told me that he'd bring the car back before Hal knew it was missing. He gave me 100 Gs and I took them to the lot. I picked the Hummer that was way in the back of the lot. Hell, I didn't think Hal would notice the damn thing was gone this fast!"

Alex held a picture of Eric and Eden. "Who are these other 2 creeps?" she asked. Richie shook his head vigorously. "I don't know who they are!" he said. "I've never met them before!" Bobby closed the space between him and Richie. He leaned down, his face a mere 3 inches away from Richie's. "Where are Franco Holland and Francisco Torres hiding out now?" Bobby asked. Richie shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "I don't know." Bobby poked him hard in the shoulder once. "Where are they, Richie?" he asked, his voice slightly raised.

Richie nervously held up his left hand, then switched to his right hand. "I swear I don't know where they are!" he said. "I didn't even know Frankie Devil had let them back into the state until they showed up last night." "Then I suggest you take a guess at their whereabouts," Alex said, "before my partner there gets angry." Bobby smirked at Richie. "You wouldn't like me when I'm angry, Richie," he said. Richie ran his fingers through his hair. "Aw, man. Hal's gonna kill me," he muttered as he racked his brain for some information.

"Franco's got a niece named Julie Reese. She's a stripper at some club in Queens called Denim and Diamonds. At least she used to be. Her stage name is Juicy Jules. She might be the manager by now," Richie said in defeat. "He used to go her when he was in trouble. That's all I know." Bobby looked at Alex, who was flipping through a file. She looked up at him and nodded. "Works for me," she said. Bobby turned and smiled at Richie, clapping him on the shoulder. "See how easy that was, Richie? You've made me a happy man." Richie rubbed at his shoulder and said "Ouch" as Bobby and Alex gathered their things and walked out the door.

"Good work, detectives," Captain Ross said as Alex and Bobby entered the observation room. Alex and Bobby both just nodded their heads. "We're gonna head to this club to see if we can find this niece of Franco Holland's," Alex said with a sigh. "Actually, I'll get some other detectives to follow up on this lead for you," Ross said. "The Spencers have arrived. They're waiting for you in the conference room." Bobby and Alex looked at each other, both dreading to give Janelle and Drew the bad news about Angel.

When Alex and Bobby entered the conference room, Janelle was pacing back and forth between the wall and Drew on the opposite side of the table. She had her cell phone pressed to her ear. "I don't understand this. It's not like Angel to miss appointments and not tell anybody. She always calls," she said as she walked up to Drew for the umpteenth time, closing the phone sharply. They turned their heads to look at the detectives. "Hey, guys," Janelle said. She walked around the table to greet them.

Janelle stopped short in her tracks as she noticed Alex carrying a black leather backpack purse. She recognized it right away as the purse she had given to Angel for her 33rd birthday. "Where's Angel?" she asked cautiously. Alex sighed. "There's something we need to tell you and Drew," she said softly, taking a step towards her friend. Janelle put up her hand to stop Alex's approach. Tears started forming in her eyes as she looked at Bobby, then Alex. "Drew, call Angel," she said, tossing her phone to him.

"Please, Janelle, wait," Alex said as she began to move towards her, but Janelle put her hand up again. "Drew, call Baby Girl now! Speed dial 5!" Janelle's breathing quickened as her tears spilled down her cheeks. Drew quickly opened the phone and pressed the number 5. Janelle put one hand on the table to steady herself and the other on her stomach, doubling over as if she had been punched when the musical notes of "Raspberry Beret" came from the purse. She looked up at Alex with wide eyes and asked, "Where's Angel?! Where's her body?!" Drew closed the phone and tossed it on the table as if it were on fire. He staggered back towards the wall as he grabbed his head with both hands, shaking it back and forth and muttering, "Oh, no. Oh, no," over and over.

Alex grabbed a chair and helped Janelle sit down in it, while Bobby went over to Drew. Drew had slid with his back against the wall down towards the floor. Bobby kneeled down next to him, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Drew, Angel's in the hospital. She's not dead," he said. "Look at me, Drew. You gotta breathe." Drew looked at Bobby, who was inhaling and exhaling deeply. Drew began following Bobby's lead.

Janelle was rocking back and forth in the chair, wringing her hands in her lap. "Is that true?" she asked Alex, tears still falling down her face. Alex nodded, grabbing Janelle by the shoulders to stop her rocking. "Yes. Angel's in the hospital. We're going to take you to see her. Okay?" Janelle pressed her lips together and nodded. She continued her rocking motion. Alex pulled up another chair and sat down next to her. Janelle laid her head on Alex's shoulder. She smiled to herself as she rocked her body slowly. She didn't care if she wasn't displaying proper police behavior at the moment. Right now, her friend needed a shoulder to cry on and she was glad to offer that shoulder.

"Am I dead?" Angel thought to herself as she stared out at the crystal clear lake. She was sitting on the grass, leaning against a tree with her legs stretched out in front of her. She looked down at her clothes, noticing she had on her favorite gray MTSU Raiders t-shirt, dark blue denim capris and no shoes. "I didn't wear this today. At least I don't think I did. I must be dead."

"No, you're not dead. Just in a waiting room of sorts," a warm male voice said from behind the tree. "Garvin?" Angel asked softly aloud. She stood up and peeked around the tree. Standing there in a plain white t-shirt, black jogging pants and white running shoes was a tall man with warm cocoa brown skin. "Garvin?" she asked in disbelief. He gave her a lopsided smile and said, "What's up, Heartbreaker?"

Angel walked up to him, with more curiosity than fear. She placed her hand on his cheek and smiled at her dead husband. "Hi," she said. "Hey, Heartbreaker," he said again. She chuckled lightly at the nickname he had given her when they had met for the first time at a party. She hugged him around his waist. He hugged her back. Garvin stepped back to look at her. They just smiled at each other.

"What is this place?" Angel asked. "A place for you to wait until you decide to go back," Garvin explained. "Oh." She looked around and noticed that there were other people there, too besides her and him. He took her hand and started walking along the shore. "When will I know to go back?" Garvin shrugged. "You'll just know," he said. She nodded. They continued walking in silence.

Angel thought she should have been freaked out by the fact that she was holding hands with her dead husband, but she didn't. It actually felt natural to her somehow. "He's nice," Garvin said. She looked at him. "He who?" she asked. "Bobby," he answered. "He's nice. A little weird, but nice." She stopped and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. Garvin chuckled, putting up his hands. "I'm just stating fact, not judging," he said. Angel gave him a wary look before taking his hand again.

Angel and Garvin continued walking along the shore, hand in hand. "I want to show you something," he said, pulling her away from the shore. They headed towards a playground. There were a lot of kids around, playing, laughing and shouting. Garvin led Angel to a multicolor merry-go-round where 4 boys and 2 girls were playing. One of the boys looked to be about 8 or 9 years old, the oldest of the bunch. One of the girls looked to be about 1 year old, the youngest of the bunch.

"Look familiar?" Garvin asked as he and Angel stood at the edge of the playground watching the kids on the merry-go-round. Angel shook her head. "Should I know them?" she asked. He leaned over to her and said, "Take a real good look at them, Angel." She looked at the kids harder. She noticed they all had the same caramel colored skin as she did, and that all the boys and the oldest girl had black hair. She gasped as she realized that the youngest girl had brown hair and gray eyes just like her.

"My daughter?" Angel whispered in awe. She absentmindedly touched her stomach. Garvin chuckled and said, "Your babies." Her eyes widen. "With Bobby?" she asked. Garvin nodded. "The oldest boy and girl you'll adopt. The rest are yours and his."

Angel looked at Garvin, then at the kids, then at Garvin again. "Will I remember any of this when I go back? Will I remember them?" she asked hopefully. Garvin shook his head. "You'll think you've had a hazy, crazy dream when you wake up. Everything will be fuzzy," he said. Her shoulders slumped. "Oh." He pointed to an empty park bench. "You can sit over and wait until you're ready to go."

Angel walked over to the bench and sat down. Garvin sat down beside her. "I'll keep you company," he said with a smile. She gave him a small smile as she squeezed his hand. She didn't say anything. She just sat there and sighed, watching her and Bobby's future running around, having a very good time.

Monday, August 21
Hudson Medical Center, 8:19 p.m.

Janelle and Drew stood at the foot of Angel's hospital bed in complete silence as they looked at their friend. Angel was laying under a light blanket, her breathing steady. She had tubes running from her arms and a bandage on her forehead. The nurse was in there checking Angel's vitals. Janelle cried as she covered her mouth and shook her head. Drew put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Look at her, Drew," she said softly. "My sister is hurt. My best friend was willing to sacrifice her life to save me. Make her wake up, Drew." He gave her a squeeze. "She'll wake up on her own, baby. You'll see," he said. She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face on his shoulder.

The nurse finished scribbling something on Angel's chart and closed it. She walked over to Drew and took the small duffel bag he was holding without saying a word. "I'll put this over here," she said quietly, pointing at a chair. After putting the duffel bag down, she moved another chair next to the bed. She let down the guardrail and said, "Mrs. Spencer, why don't you come sit down and hold her hand. Talk to her."

Janelle pulled away from Drew and sat down in the chair, scooting it closer to the bed. She put Angel's hand in hers and squeezed it. She laid her head next to Angel's. "You gotta wake up now," she whispered, stroking Angel's hair with her other hand. "You can't leave this world and leave me and Drew behind. It's not your time yet. You gotta wake up now. You can't leave me."

Drew smiled at the nurse, quietly saying thank you. She smiled and squeezed his arm. "Let me know if you need anything." He nodded and said "I will," before walking over to stand behind Janelle, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Drew, tell Baby Girl to wake up," Janelle said quietly. A wry chuckle escaped his lips as a single tear rolled down his face. "She'll wake up, baby," he said reassuringly. "Baby Girl will wake up soon." Janelle continued stroking Angel's hair and whispering, "Wake up, sis. Wake up."

Bobby and Alex walked in as the nurse walked out. They stopped and stood near the door. Bobby's heart sank as he saw his Angel laying there helpless. He tried to move, but his feet felt as if they were rooted to the spot he was standing in. Alex looked up at Bobby, nudging him in the side. "You okay?" she asked. He looked down at his hands and nodded. "It's your fault that she's here. You didn't protect her like you should have," he thought to himself. Alex touched his arm. "Don't you dare blame yourself," she said. "This is no one's fault but the bad guys." Bobby gave her small smile. "Th-thanks," he said.

Drew walked over to Alex and Bobby. "You guys okay?" Alex asked him. Drew nodded. "Yeah, we're fine. So far. You guys alright?" They nodded. Drew looked down at the ground, shaking his head. When he looked back up, his eyes were watering. He sniffed and stepped closer to Bobby, standing toe to toe with him and poking him in the chest a few times. When Drew began to speak, his voice was raw with emotion.

"Garvin regained consciousness from his accident long enough to make me and my wife promise that we would take care of, love and protect Angel until someone came along that was good enough to take his place and do those things that he did for her," Drew said. He poked Bobby in the chest again. "When you gave her that ring and your heart yesterday, Janelle and I knew that we had done our part in keeping our promise to a dying man." He pointed at Angel. "Your heart is laying there in that hospital bed, broken and bleeding. I want to know what you are going to do to fix it?"

Bobby looked Drew straight in the eye. He cleared his throat and said, "I promise I will catch the people who tried to kill her." Drew shook his index finger at him. "You'd better because I'm like Tony Montana. I don't break my balls or my word for no one. I'll be damned if I break my word to my dead best friend." Bobby leaned in closer to Drew, saying, "I. Will. Get. Them." "My friend," Drew said, "you better get the sons of bitches who did this before I do. 'Cause if I get them, all kinds of hell will break loose and NYC will burn, baby, burn. You've got my word on that."