"So exactly what are we saying?", Dov asked after Oliver ran through the highlights of his call with Sgt. Becker. "Blackstone's dirty?"

"Let's no go there yet," Oliver pleaded. "It definitely seems he's up to something, I'll grant you that. But maybe he's working something off the books. We've all done that, fight?"

The collected group of Detectives Epstein, Anderson, Nash, and Officer Ward all nodded or grunted an acknowledgement.

"So, what now? Back to square one with no leads? Just let it go?", Traci asked.

"Look, I don't like it either, but my hands are tied. Our hands are tied." Oliver held his hands together at the wrists to simulate them being bound. "This isn't over, not by a long shot. Becker is looking into it on his end and he's going to let me know what he finds. Maybe then we can have something to go on, some leads or evidence. The one thing we can't do is go around accusing decorated detectives on major task forces of being dirty without anything more than just suspicion."

"That's it? Let Drug Squad find out if there is a dirty cop in their unit, the discovery of which could wreak havoc on said unit?", Frankie unfolded her arms and leaned forward on her perch. "Forgive me for being skeptical."

Oliver sighed. "I know this isn't easy what I'm asking you to do but you have to trust me. I know Becker from back in the academy days. He's good police. If something's up he wouldn't bury it. For now, that's the best we can do. Okay? Good. Now then, in a big city like this, I'm sure there's a homicide or two for Detective Anderson to jump in to and Guns and Gangs should have enough to keep you two busy," he pointed to Juliet and Traci. "Alright, dismissed. Except for Epstein."

The other cops filed out of his office and Dov turned to Oliver. "Sir?"

"Take a seat," Oliver indicated the chairs in front of his desk and Dov took one. "Epstein, I'm detaching you from your homicide detail. Back to regular duty. I want you to follow up on Lacey Carson for the next couple days. Also work the accident case file. Make sure everything is good on our end. SIU and traffic will handle the rest. Then in a couple more days it sounds Like Sam will be back and you'll go back to normal again. Sound good?"

Dov nodded but didn't feel it. He wanted to keep working the drug case. He was just starting to get somewhere when Blackstone pulled the rug out from under them. And now that something was going on there he was itching to put his intelligence unit skills to use and figure it out. Instead he said, "Yes, sir." He walked out and back towards his desk.

Dov didn't have to say anything. Oliver knew all of them well enough to know what they felt about most situations. As he leaned back in his chair and stared out at the platoon from his office, Oliver considered that it was a small conciliation that he felt as bad about how this as the other four did. But he had to do it this way. Jarvis wouldn't go for sneaking around the back of Sergeant Becker. And IA couldn't be brought in without evidence. Now it was a waiting game. Something would crack, something always does. The only question was would they be able to wait it out.

Andy was out of the hospital and relaxing at home on the sofa, or trying to. She couldn't quite get comfortable while also accommodating her casts. Sam was trying to help as much as he could and she appreciated it. But soon he would be back to work and she would have to rely on herself for some basic things.

Sam, himself, was getting showered and dressed for his appointment with the department psychologist. If all went well he'd be clear to return to duty as early as tomorrow. But paperwork could always take a little longer she knew. Her husband appeared from their room in one of his patented jeans and long sleeve shirt outfits.

"How do I look?", he asked.

"Hmm, like a guy who is mentally and emotionally stable with a clear conscience over having to shoot somebody."

"Perfect, that's what I was going for. I think it's the color of the shirt."

Andy giggled as Sam came over for a kiss. When they broke she said, "I'll miss you."

Sam smiled, "Of course you will. Especially in your current state."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam stopped at the door. "Andy, seriously, you can't move around all that well yet. It's not something to be ashamed of, you've been through a lot."

"Okay, two things. First, I'm not ashamed of anything. And Two, I can move around. I could move right up next to you right now if I wanted to."

"Oh, really?" They were both grinning.

"Yeah, really."

"Okay then, let's see it."

"What, now?"

"Yeah, you said you could so let's see you do it."

"Correction Detective, I said I could if I wanted to. Right now, I don't want to."

Sam held up both hands. "I stand corrected. Well, I've got to run, don't want to be late to the first shrink I'm actually sort of looking forward to seeing."

"Yeah, probably a good idea. I love you Sam."

"I love you too, Sweetheart."

With that Sam slid out the door leaving Andy. She tried to get comfortable again but was still making no progress, despite how tired she felt, her body was not letting rest come easily right now. Then a though occurred on her. As much as she hated to even acknowledge it to herself, her movement was significantly impaired right now. With that in mind, she considered that maybe she should have asked Sam to help her into the bedroom before he left. Maybe a bed would let her get more comfortable. And being closer to a bathroom couldn't hurt. Then she had to consider if she could make it there on her own. While weighing the pros and cons of that scenario, she shut her eyes and eventually sleep over came her.

"Mr. Swarek, Dr. Papanault will see you now."

"Great," Sam stood up and followed the receptionist back to the doctor's office. He thanked her when he opened the door for him and she nodded politely in return.

"Ah, Detective Swarek, it's good to meet you. Please, do come in." The doctor offered his hand and Sam shook it. Dr. Papanault was a 40-ish man with meticulously slicked back hair and groomed beard. When Sam was seated the doctor asked, "So, how have you been."

"Overall, very good. It's rough being away from the job but I've got to spend some time with my daughter, so that's been great."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"Yeah, but the last couple days have been a bit rough."

"Oh?"

"My wife, Andy who's a Road Sergeant at 15, got in an accident."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Detective. Is she alright?"

"Oh, she'll be fine. Couple of broken bones but considering the accident, she got lucky. She's a tough cookie."

"She sounds like it. But still, you had to be worried."

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, let's see. I was with my daughter Mia, from a previous relationship. We were meeting her for lunch. She was running late but I wasn't that surprised. If I told you about our wedding, you'd understand." They both chuckled and Sam continued. "I called her a few times and she wasn't answering. A couple missed calls I'd get but she usually returns my calls pretty quick. I was starting to worry. So, I called my best friend, Staff Sergeant Shaw, and he told me what had happened. I scooped up Mia and race to the hospital. The whole way there I had no idea about how bad she might have been. She was all I could think about."

"Understandably. But it sounds like it went a lot better than you had feared. That had to be a major relief."

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Did this accident happen on the job?"

"Yeah. She was stopped at a light and got rear-ended. Pushed into the intersection and T-boned by a bus."

"My word, she must have a guardian angel to come out of that the way she did."

"Yeah. In our line of work, I think we all need to have somebody looking out for us up there." Sam thought about Jerry for a moment and then returned his attention back to the present.

"I suppose you're right, even with the whole police service looking out for each other."

"Oh yeah, our platoon is super tight. After what happened last year, we all got each other's back. NO doubt."

"Is that why you became a police officer? To have the community's back?"

"Something like that."

"Do you want to talk about it."

"Not really. It's a family thing. A bit personal. I will say that it made me realize that I had this desire to protect people. I maybe didn't always translate that to becoming a cop but that urge was always there. Still is. And thank god for my mentor. He picked me up and set me on the right path. The path I needed. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him."

"And who was that?"

"A detective from my first division. He ran into me when I was young, getting into some trouble. He told me to straighten up, enter the academy when I was old enough, and I might even make a halfway decent copper."

"Looking at your record and commendations, I'd say you surpassed that mark."

Sam grinned. "Yeah, I guess I have."

"And I'm assuming that you want nothing more than to return to doing what you are so clearly good at."

"Not to sound rude, doc, but that's why I'm here."

Dr. Papanault smiled. "Believe me, work with police officers enough and I have heard that a lot. Usually at the beginning of the sessions though. So, thank you for indulging me his long."

"Are we most of your clients?", Sam asked, meaning police officers.

"The Service has me on retainer. Others too. But yeah, I work with a lot of members of the Service. But not just Officers. Unsworn personnel as well like administrative staff."

"Really? Huh…"

"Yes, Detective, when bad things happen, it's not always just you front line guys that need some help."

"No, that makes sense. I've just never thought about it. You get a lot of us then. You must think we're a bunch of cray people after a while."

"Never, Detective. I mostly deal with your division, 15 as well as 27 and 34. So I get pieces of the whole figurative pie. But never would I judge people who see what you see and deal with what you have to deal with. We all face stresses. Some more than others. And we all cope and deal with things differently. My job is to assess how you guys are doing that.

"Right, because we can't have emergency personnel not be at their best."

"Precisely."

"May I ask how I'm doing?"

"Well, I want to touch on a couple more things before I make my official recommendation. But I will say, that you may want to iron a couple suits later."

Sam smiled. "Thanks for the advice doctor, but I'm more of a dress shirt and jeans kind of guy."