The two of them made some more small talk before Tom settled down in the bed to rest and quickly fell asleep. Soon after, his mother arrived, and Doug left Tom under her watchful eye as he left the hospital and headed for the police station.

Doug walked down the hall of the police station, knowing exactly where he was heading. Interrogation Room 4. Lee Eckert was waiting there…alone. He had agreed to talk to them, waiving his right to counsel. Detective Michaels and Captain Fuller were in the observation room and looked up as Doug entered.

"How's Hanson?" Fuller asked.

"Seems a little better, I think. He's been talking to the shrink," Doug answered. "So…" He nodded toward the two-way window. "Has he said anything?"

"We're just about to go in," said Michaels. "And by 'we' I mean Adam and I."

"What?!" Doug bellowed. "Cap'n…!"

"Sorry, Doug," Fuller replied. "Not this time. Besides the fact that I apparently can't trust you right now to follow orders, I also think he's going to be more cooperative if he doesn't have you to try to provoke into doing something."

"And he…" Michaels added as he gestured to the officer standing by the door inside the interrogation room, "is going to make sure you stay out of there."

Doug set his jaw, resigned to the fact that there was nothing he could do to change their minds. "Can I at least watch?" he asked evenly.

"You can watch," replied Michaels. "Just stay out of there. Come on, Adam. Let's get this started."

The captain gave Doug a final stern look as he followed the detective out of the room. Doug knew by that look that he needed to resolve himself to staying out of it, no matter what went on in the other room. But he also knew that eventually he was going to get his chance at Eckert, and he was going to make it worth his while when that chance came.

Michaels and Fuller entered the interrogation room and sat down at the table opposite of Lee Eckert who was sitting there looking as calm as if he was waiting for a bus. "Gentlemen," he greeted them with a smile.

Fuller could feel the anger rising inside of him. This was not going to go well; he could already feel it. And he wondered if something as simple as one police officer was going to be enough to keep Doug from charging into the room at some point. If fact, he wondered if that was going to be enough to keep him from doing something he would regret.

"All right, Eckert. Here's what we know," Michaels began. "We know you and two other guys grabbed Officer Hanson outside of his apartment building Tuesday night. We know you drove him out to Lotus Park and restrained him, then beat him, and you sexually assaulted him. Then you left him out there to die." The detective looked at the ex-con. "Did I leave anything out?"

Eckert laughed. "Yeah…quite a few things, I think. And you have the facts fucked up."

"Like what?"

"First of all, these other guys…you bringing them in on this too? Where are they?"

"Well now," Michaels replied. "That's where you can help us…and yourself…out. We can't seem to figure out who they were. You might want to think about giving them up and spreading the blame around a bit. Unless you want to go down for all of it yourself."

"Yeahhh…I don't think I'm gonna be going down for anything on this one, Detective," Eckert smirked, "'cause I didn't do anything wrong."

This time it was Fuller who laughed. "Come on, Eckert. Your DNA is all over the place. Not to mention the fact that Hanson ID'd you."

"DNA?" Eckert scoffed. "What's that prove? Just that we had sex, that's all. I didn't force the guy to do anything."

"Yeah right," said Michaels. "I'm sure he enjoyed the ropes and the broken ribs and the ruptured spleen and all the rest of it. I'm sure he did everything willingly."

"As a matter of fact, he did seem to be enjoying himself. He did a lot of screaming, but all my partners do that," Eckert laughed.

Fuller was seething and finding it hard to remain a good example for his officer that he knew was watching everything from the two-way mirrored window. "Come on, Eckert. No one's going to buy that. Tell us who helped you out and we'll make sure they are held accountable for this as well. You don't want to take all the blame."

"Told you, man, I didn't do anything. Except have sex with the guy. But he wanted to…said he missed me."

"What the hell does that mean?" Fuller asked angrily.

"Means we had a thing going back when he was…undercover. Why else do you think I would have told him anything about that bitch I killed? He had me snowed…made me think I could trust him…we were gonna be together and all that shit. Asshole kept giving me all these blows jobs, getting me all worked up until I finally let him screw me." Eckert laughed. "He wasn't that good at it though. So we flipped and I started giving it to him. Man, he liked that a lot…being the bitch on the bottom." Then the man grew serious. "I trusted him, and he ratted me out. Gave me up and never even acted like it bothered him. But I knew better. He had feeling s for me. But he didn't want anyone to find out about us. You know…he came to see me in prison."

Michaels looked at Fuller and Fuller raised his eyebrows to convey that he did not know if that claim was true or not. He looked back at Eckert and asked, "Now why would he do that?"

Eckert leaned back in his chair. "To tell me he was sorry. To tell me he still had feelings for me."

"That's bullshit, Eckert," Fuller said.

"Yeah well…if you say so. Fact is, you don't have any proof of what really happened the other night."

Michaels leaned in and said, "Then why don't you tell us what 'really' happened?"

"Okay," replied Eckert. "I was there. At his place. I was waiting for him. After that hot-headed friend of his dropped him off, I stopped him before he went in…asked him to talk. He was surprised to see me, but he said yeah…okay. So we went over to my place. We talked…then we started fooling around…next thing you know we're in my bed and he's moaning and screaming. Yeah, he probably got hurt a little…he likes it rough." The man laughed. "He likes it a lot…came all over the place while I was fucking the hell out of him. But that was it. He left my place just fine. I didn't beat on him or anything…even though…he probably likes that too. I'm just not into it."

Fuller and Michaels had been listening to the man talk but were too stunned to say anything to interrupt him, and now that he had stopped talking they still were too shocked to speak. Finally, Michaels shook his head as though he were clearing away cobwebs and asked, "Are you crazy? Do you think anyone is going to believe that bullshit story? You assaulted a cop, Eckert! He's going to tell what happened, and your story is going to look like a fairy tale next to it. No one's going to believe you."

Eckert shrugged. "You got any proof that says something else happened? You've got my spunk up his ass…doesn't prove it was against his will. You've got these two 'mystery guys' that supposedly helped me attack him. Any evidence they were there? " He looked at the two men sitting across the table from him. "Nah…I didn't think so."

"Okay, Eckert," said Michaels. "I'm gonna humor you. I'll run with this. I'm sending the CSIs back over to your place. Now you tell me just exactly where they're going to find any evidence that your story is true."

"In the laundry hamper," Eckert replied without missing a beat.

Michaels eyed him. "What?"

"That's where the sheets are from that night. There's some blood…some other stuff…all that DNA crap you guys are always going on about. It's just the top sheet…not a lot, but enough, I'm sure. The bottom sheet…well, it was pretty much ruined. I went ahead and threw that out the next morning."

"Yeah, okay, whatever. So you say Officer Hanson was fine when you last saw him. When was that?"

"When he left my place…around 2:30 in the morning. He was kind of pissed. I told him I didn't want to see him anymore…that I'd just wanted to talk but he had pushed me into having sex again and I wasn't ready for that. I offered to drive him home, but he took off mad. Said he'd catch the bus or something. That's the last time I saw him. Too bad…I guess somebody else…maybe your two mystery guys…attacked him on his way home like you said…took him out to the park and all. Wasn't me though."

"So why would he say it was?" asked Michaels.

"Got me," said Eckert, shrugging. "I guess he didn't want you guys to know what he'd done. Didn't want you to find out he had sex with me willingly."

Michaels sighed. "Okay, we're done. Dan," he said to the officer at the door, "get him out of here."

The officer came over and pulled Eckert up. As he was leading him out the door, the prisoner looked back over his shoulder and said, "Hey, tell him 'hi' for me!" He was then led out the door, laughing. A few seconds later Doug entered the room and sat down where Eckert had been sitting.

Captain Fuller looked at Penhall. Surprisingly, the young officer appeared calm and collected. Fuller couldn't help but wonder what kind of a reaction he had expressed in the observation room, but he was proud that he had been able to get it under control before coming in to see them. He wondered how long this control would last, however.

"It's all bullshit. You guys know that, right?" Doug asked.

"He tells a good story, Doug," said Michaels. "And he's right. We have no leads on these other two guys. And we really don't have any evidence to support the claim that Eckert is the one who beat Hanson. Or that…the sex wasn't consensual."

He was trying…Doug really was trying to control himself. So he counted to ten before saying, "I hope you aren't saying what I think you're saying."

"I'm not," replied Michaels. "I'm not saying I believe him. I'm not saying Hanson is lying. But what I am saying is that to a jury either story could be true. They might believe a cop versus a con, but they might not. We've got to make our case stronger, or I'm afraid we won't win. Hell, I'm not even sure the D.A. will charge him with anything at this point."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me!" This time it was Fuller, not Doug, who was having an outburst. "Mark, this is ridiculous! This asshole can make up any kind of bullshit he wants, and we're supposed to take our chances and hope that a jury believes our story and not his?!"

"No, we're not, Adam. That's exactly what I just said we we're not going to do. We need to get some more evidence and build the case up. Or preferably, find these guys that Hanson says were there too." The detective stood up. "We've got 48 hours before we have to charge him or let him go. I'd suggest we get moving."

Although it was getting late in the evening, the men knew that the only possible lead they could get on the other two unidentified attackers could come from just one place.

"I said no."

Detective Michaels sighed and ran his hand across his face. "Ma'am, we just need to talk to him for a few minutes."

Helen crossed her arms and fixed the detective with a hard stare across the nurses' station. "I told you. His mom's already left and he's settled in for the night. I don't want you getting him upset."

"Honestly, ma'am, I can't promise that won't happen, but I'll do my best. The thing is…we need to talk to him right now." Michaels looked at the woman, knowing that he could force her to let them in, but he would rather that he had her buy in on this. "Look…Helen…we really appreciate how you're looking after Tom. I know you have your job to do, but so do we. We're trying to get the guys that did this to him. And time is of the essence. You could really help us out…help us get the information we need…by letting us see him tonight."

The nurse seemed to soften her look a bit. She looked from the detective to Doug and said, "You there….what's you name again? Doug? You're his friend, right? You're going to look after him? Make sure everything goes okay?"

"Yes ma'am," Doug replied.

Helen looked back at Michaels. "Okay. But you be careful. If I have to come in there…"

"You won't. We'll make it quick and as easy as possible," he responded.

"All right then. Go ahead. But don't you forget I'm right out here."

Michaels smiled as he turned to go into the room. "We could never forget that, ma'am."

Doug and the detective entered the darkened room, lit only by the light from the hallway and the blinking indicators on the monitors above the bed. Tom was lying halfway on his side turned away from them. They could not tell if he was asleep or not, so rather than speaking and possibly frightening him, Doug turned on the small lamp that was sitting on a table near the bed. Its soft glow spread low across the room, and Tom stirred in the bed, inhaling deeply and turning over to face them, blinking his eyes and stretching his arms. "Hey," he said faintly, then yawned.

"Hi, Tom," said Michaels.

"Hey, man," said Doug. "Sorry to wake you up."

Tom pushed himself up in the bed against the pillows. "It's okay. I wasn't asleep yet. What's up?"

"Well," Doug started, looking at Michaels and back at Tom, "we uh…we need to ask you some more questions." He pulled a chair over and sat down next to the bed, and Michaels did the same.

Hearing Doug's words, Tom looked a little uneasy. "Right now? What do you mean? What kind of questions?"

"About the two guys that helped Eckert," answered Michaels.

Before the detective had finished his sentence, Tom was shaking his head. "No…no!" He looked back and forth between the two men. "I told you…I don't want anything more to do with it. I'm done!"

Doug tried to calm his friend. "C'mon, Tom…we need to do this."

"Why?! It happened to me, Doug! It's my business!"

"Tom," said Michaels, "this isn't something that we can ignore. It just doesn't work that way. You know that."

"We've got Eckert, Tom," added Doug apprehensively, afraid of what kind of a reaction he was going to get.

"What?" Tom asked, shocked. His expression turned from one of anger to one of fear and distress. His face fell as he tried to hold back the tears. He looked at his partner and asked pleadingly, "Why? I told you…God, Doug, why?" He put his face in his hands as his anguish overtook him and the tears came.

Doug felt miserable, caught between a rock and a hard place. He was doing the very thing he didn't want to do…upsetting his friend, and yet he knew he had to get the information. He knew in the end it would help Tom, but right now all it was doing was hurting him. At a loss for what to do, he simply sat silently.

Michaels finally broke the silence. "Tom, listen…I hate to sound harsh, but this has to be done. You don't have a choice in the matter."

Tom lifted his face out of his hands to look at the detective. His demeanor had changed back to anger again. "No shit!" he spat out. "I don't have a choice? That's been happening a lot lately! And I'm getting a little sick of it!" He straightened up in the bed, wiped his face with the back of his hand, and then crossed his arms. "Fine. What do you want to know?" he said evenly.

Michaels sighed and glanced at Doug before beginning his questioning. "Okay…you told us before that you didn't get a good look at the other guys. Did you see anything at all about them? Race? Height? Build? Anything at all?"

"No."

"Did they speak? Was there anything about their voices? Or did Eckert call them by name?"

"No."

The detective sighed again. "All right…how about…"

"Wait," Tom interjected quietly without looking at the man.

Michaels stopped talking and asked, "What is it, Tom? Do you remember something?"

Hanson managed to catch the eye of the other man who was holding him down by the shoulders, but the eyes were void of any compassion…

"It was dark," Tom began softly, still staring straight ahead. "The moon was out, but…but…it was still too dark to see much." Tom blinked and shook his head, trying to remember. He looked at Michaels. "But…he was white…long hair. He had a tattoo. On his left temple. A lightening bolt."

The detective was taking notes and looked up. "That's great, Tom! Excellent information. Anything else?"

Tom looked down. "No."

"Okay. How about the car? Do you what kind? How many doors? Anything like that?"

…he heard the front door open as the driver got out. Both back doors opened, and the men on either side got out…

"Four doors," Tom responded.

"Good…good. What about the color? How old? Was it a large or small hood?" Michaels asked.

Tom's head jerked up to face the detective, eyes wide and panicked. His breath was starting to become labored.

The men holding Tom pulled him away from the side of the car, turned him around, and pushed him face down over the hood...he was pinned tightly against the car by Eckert's buddy and was having trouble breathing. He sensed Eckert approaching him from behind and felt his hands sliding up his back, pushing his t-shirt up.

"It…uh…" He looked down at his hands that were shaking now. "It was a big hood. Brown…light brown."

"Anything else?" asked Michaels.

He picked a point on the car's windshield and focused on it, staring intently as he tried to imagine being home, safe and secure, doing anything at all except this. Anywhere but here. Anything but this.

A visible shudder ran through Tom's body. He uttered, "There was a crack in the windshield…by the rear view mirror." He looked at Michaels. "That's it. That's all."

"Okay…are you sure? Because…"

"Yes, I'm sure! That's it! I'm done!"

"Ahem!" The sound, loud and firm, came from behind Doug and Detective Michaels. They turned around to find Helen standing in the doorway, arms folded and a very displeased look on her face.

The men turned their attention back to Tom. "I think we have enough for now," said Michaels. "Thank you, Tom. I know it was difficult, but believe me…you've been a big help." He stood and turned to leave.

Doug stood as well, but stayed by the bed and looked at Tom who was now settling back down under the covers, turning slightly away and lying as he had been when they first arrived. "Hey, man…you okay?"

"Yes."

"Do you uh…you want me to stay awhile until you…"

"No."

Doug tried again. "Are you sure you…"

"Go away, Doug," Tom replied without looking around.

Doug stood for a moment more before heading out the door, Helen's hard gaze following him all the way.

Well how about that?! Not only did I get a chapter done sooner than I thought I would, it's the longest one ever! :-) That deserves a little review, doesn't it? :-D