***DOINK!DOINK!***

Chapter Two: Good Teams

The Manhattan District Attorney's Office

One Hogan Place Centre Street

Manhattan, New York

Friday November 20

Connie's heart pounded as she rode the elevator up to the floor where she worked.

Yesterday had been one hell of an emotional roller coaster. But talk about a satisfying victory. They'd finally gotten the son-of-a-bitch. They'd finally gotten Marcus Woll. Ever since Mike had found out about her history with Woll—or rather, ever since Woll had rubbed it in his face—the look in his eyes told Connie that he was in it for her. Connie found that flattering, humbling, and romantic.

She'd thoroughly enjoyed Mike's recap of how he'd secretly recorded Woll.

She didn't want to admit it to anyone but herself and Mike how damn good this victory felt. Woll had been so arrogant, complacent, and smug—so certain that they had no case against him—and they'd gotten him. They'd beaten the prick at his own game. And not only was he going to be disbarred—he was going to prison for the rest of his life. Talk about a fall from grace.

And if she could, Connie would have made it happen all over again—with Mike's help, of course.

Karma hadn't come knocking at Woll's door—it had broken the damn thing down.

God, this felt so good.

And ever since she'd watched Woll being led away in handcuffs, Mike was all she could think about.

How could Jack think her working with him could ever be a problem?

That wasn't even possible.

Why would she have a problem working with Mike?

Mike, who hadn't treated her any differently after learning about her unfortunate history with Woll; Mike, who hadn't judged her for it; Mike, who'd worked harder on this case than she'd ever seen him work—which was saying something because he had a hell of a work ethic as it was—and had done so for her; Mike, who respected her, who understood what she was worth, who loved her just as she was…who made her feel a way she'd never felt before in her life…

A problem? Jack couldn't be more off-base.

All of a sudden, the elevator gave a 'ding!', signaling her arrival on her floor.

Her heart gave a sort of jolt in her chest and began to race again.

Any moment now, and she would see him…

She stepped off the elevator and took a deep breath before walking to her office. She unlocked the door and entered the room, hanging up her coat.

She took another deep breath and then went to Mike's office, briefcase in hand, closing the door behind her.

Mike looked up as she entered the room and stood up immediately, making Connie melt.

They met one another's gaze.

"Hi," Connie said softly.

"Hi," Mike returned, the same way.

They looked at each other for a moment.

Mike had a tie on, but he'd already rolled up his sleeves. It was breezy that day, so his sandy hair was a bit tousled. Connie hoped he would leave it that way. It just emphasized how boyishly good-looking he was.

"You must feel so relieved," he said. "I bet you slept very well last night."

"I did," Connie said, nodding. "And you're right—I am relieved…You know, Mike, you're the only one I feel comfortable telling this to, but that victory yesterday? It felt good… I can't help but think that…"

"It's okay," Mike said tenderly. "God, Connie, who can blame you for feeling that way?...You know…I almost called you last night…"

"I almost called you, too…" Connie admitted.

"Really?" Mike asked, pleasantly surprised.

"Yeah…" Connie said softly.

They looked at each other for a moment.

"Mike—thank you," Connie then said sincerely. "Thank you so much. I couldn't have gotten Woll without your help."

"Connie, I have to disagree," Mike said tenderly. "You're giving me too much credit. You're the one who stuck your neck out by naming yourself a co-conspirator. You're the reason that son-of-a-bitch is going to prison for life—not me…You know—I understand why you put yourself on the line like that. But I never liked it…"

"Mike, there was no other way," Connie said bracingly. "You know—I can be just as stubborn as you," she then added with a bantering smile.

At that, Mike smiled sweetly, displaying his dimples.

Connie melted, feeling her breath catch in her throat.

"Now I have to disagree," she then said. "Mike, we got the son-of-a-bitch together…Further proof that we make a great team…Mike—I'm glad you were the one I was working the case with."

Mike melted.

Connie could tell by the expression on his boyishly handsome face how much that meant to him to hear her say that.

He walked around his desk, so there wasn't anything between them. They stood face-to-face. For a moment, they just looked at one another.

Then, Mike did something he'd never done before.

He stepped closer to her and wrapped her in his arms, embracing her tightly. After a moment of initial surprise, Connie put her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder. The two of them stayed like that for a little while.

After a bit, they drew apart slightly and looked at one another, silently agreeing.

They leaned in toward each other, so close to sharing their first kiss, when suddenly—

Mike's Blackberry beeped, alerting him that he'd received a text message.

They both looked disappointed as they let go of each other.

Mike went over to his desk, picked up his Blackberry, and read the message.

"It's from Lupo—just letting us know we caught a new case. A woman was strangled to death in her apartment," he said.

"All right," Connie said in a businesslike tone.

"And here I was thinking he was gonna ask me to join him and Bernard for another beer," Mike half-joked.

At Connie's pleasantly surprised expression, he said, "Everyone needs a drinking buddy or two, don't they?"

Connie smiled.

"I completely agree," she said. "So—shall we start our work day then?"

"Yeah," said Mike.

Their eyes met, and Mike took a moment to lovingly caress her face with his free hand.

The two of them exchanged tender smiles, and then Mike said, in reference to all the appeals against Woll's convictions that they'd been slammed with, "Well—the Appellate Division calls."

"That it does," Connie said with a smile.

***DOINK! DOINK!***

Apartment of Henry and Diana Crawford

Manhattan, New York

Monday November 23

Lucinda's mother sat on the sofa, and her father stood with his hand on his wife's shoulder.

Mrs. Crawford sighed heavily and put her face in her hands.

"Oh God…" she whispered, barely understandable.

Mr. Crawford then sat down next to her and placed his arm around her shoulders.

"We hate to have to grill you about this," Lupo said to them grimly, "but did your daughter have any enemies? Any confrontations with anyone recently? Was anyone harassing her, or...?"

Mrs. Crawford wiped her eyes on her sleeve and said, "She had a good amount of friends…Our family is stable…She got along with the people she worked with…But, um—but her love life, that—that's a different story…"

"She have a boyfriend?" asked Lupo.

"No," Mr. Crawford spoke up. "But she had a real prick for a husband. They were going through a really bitter divorce. The bastard brought it on himself by cheating on her, yet he had the audacity to act like our daughter was the problem!"

"Did he ever threaten her?" asked Bernard. "Was he abusive in any way?"

"No," said Mrs. Crawford, "but he was definitely a narcissistic ass. Henry and I will never know what Lucy saw in him…"

"They have some pretty heated arguments, then?" asked Lupo.

"Yeah," Mrs. Crawford replied. "Ever since she found out about the bastard's affair, it seemed like all they did was argue. Judging by what Lucy told us, things were hostile between them…That prick…I bet that wasn't even the first time he cheated on her—I wouldn't put it past him. Like I said—he's a narcissistic ass. And when Lucy filed for divorce, she bruised his ego…"

"My wife is right," Mr. Crawford said. "You want to find the man who killed our daughter, Detectives? Why don't you look into that son-of-a-bitch she married?"

***DOINK!DOINK!***

N.Y.P.D. 27th Precinct

One Police Plaza

Manhattan, New York

Monday November 23

Lupo and Bernard sat at their desks, discussing the case.

"So the parents say she married a real winner," Lupo said darkly.

He and Bernard were updating Lt. Van Buren.

"Fifty percent of us do," Van Buren said bleakly, alluding to herself.

There came an uncomfortable pause.

"Was there a lot of animosity there?" Van Buren then asked.

"According to Mrs. Carlisle's parents, yes," said Bernard. "Hey, Lupes, remember what her next door neighbor said? That Lucinda was arguing with someone on the phone between five and six?"

"Yeah," said Lupo. "I say we pull her phone records and then have a chat with prince charming."

"Well, pull her phone records, but talk to her divorce attorney first," said Van Buren. "Find out how much of prince charming's castle she was asking for," she quipped with a small smile.

Lupo and Bernard both gave amused smiles.