Notes: Hey readers! I just wanted to let you all know that I am currently re-writing Partners! I have gone over this story so many times and found some mistakes that I really want to fix. So, without further delay... here is chapter four!

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Transformers. Hasbro owns them. Not me.

Important terms:
Rap sheet - a criminal record

If there was one place in the whole precinct Preston enjoyed most, it was the interrogation room. Sure, it wasn't the most comfortable room. It was sparsely furnished with rather plain amenities, just a table, and two metal chairs. But it was quiet and he liked that. There were times when he would sneak away from his desk (especially on a tough case or just to escape Jazz's antics), slip into the room, lie on the table, and take a nap.

At the moment, however, Preston was standing outside of the one-way mirror with his captain beside him. Inside the room, Darren Ward was leaning back in one of the chairs, his hands folded behind his head and his eyes closed, most likely asleep. Orion glanced over to the lead detective, Preston, who had his arms crossed over his chest and continued to stare at the man in the other room. From behind them, the door opened and both the detective and captain turned to see Jazz walk in. The lieutenant closed the door behind him and walked up to stand beside Orion.

"Mind if I watch?" he asked.

"I have no objection to it," Orion murmured. He looked over to Preston. "Novak? It's your call."

The man in question shrugged. "Be my guest," he answered quietly. Orion handed Preston a folder with a nod. The lead detective rolled up the sleeves of his button-down shirt and bowed his head to the captain and lieutenant. "If you two will excuse me, I have an interrogation to conduct."

"This should be interesting," Jazz murmured to Orion who chuckled in response. "I have a feelin' Prowler here is gonna use his 'bad cop' first."

The detective sent them both a dark look, directed mostly to Jazz, before he opened the door to the interrogation room, stepped in, and slammed it behind him. The mirror shook from the door slam, causing the suspect in the room to jolt awake and almost fall out of the chair.

"I'm sorry about that; I didn't know you were asleep," Preston said, approaching the table.

Ward snorted and cast the detective a glare. "Somehow I doubt that," he said. He folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his gaze to the detective. "Look, I came down here willingly to answer your questions and seeing that you're just messing with me, I'll just go." The man stood up and made his way towards the door but was stopped when Preston blocked the exit.

"Sit down Mr. Ward," the man snapped. Ward rolled his eyes and sat back down. He folded his arms over his chest and stared up at the detective; defiance was practically seeping from his body.

On the other side of the mirror, the dark-skinned lieutenant turned down the volume of the speaker and glanced over at Orion. The young captain watched Preston sit down from across Ward; his expression solemn.

"You're thinkin' again." Jazz said.

"What makes you say that?"

"Ya got that same look on your face," he answered. "The one you get when you stare at a case file. Or the coffee machine." Orion said nothing; his eyes remained on the detective questioning their suspect. Jazz huffed and folded his arms over his chest. "Alright, I hate to be the one to tell ya this and it's none of my business but sir, ya need to get laid."

The captain's eyes widened. He turned to Jazz who was now grinning broadly at him, arms folded over his chest. "Excuse me?" he asked.

"Ya heard me," Jazz said. "Ya need to get laid captain; probably sooner than never."

Orion disapprovingly looked at his lieutenant frowning, glad for the dim lighting of the room due to the slight creep of red rising in his cheeks. He coughed into his hand uncomfortably as he turned his attention back to Preston on the other side of the glass.

"I believe this topic is hardly inappropriate while watching an interrogation of a potential murder suspect."

Jazz shrugged. Like that's stopped me before, he thought with a chuckle. The lieutenant rubbed his hand against his shirt before looking at his blunt fingernails afterwards as his grin only grew. He then glanced over to Orion who was now looking at him with furrowed brows.

"Oh, I am inclined to disagree with ya there, sir," Jazz said. "I believe this is the perfect time to speak of such things. Besides Prowler has this interrogation covered; ya know how he loves to make the suspects squirm."

The captain narrowed his gaze to the grinning lieutenant and lowered his voice. "My romantic life is none of your business, Delaney," he said. But, Jazz was not wrong. He had not been on a date in over a year. And his last relationship, well, it did not end well for either party. Orion snapped out of his thoughts and snapped, "This conversation is over." He turned his attention to the interrogation at hand and huffed.

From behind him, he could hear Jazz snort in response and say, "You're no fun" under his breath. Orion knew for a fact that the dark skinned man was not going to give up so easily; that was simply not in his nature. He had known the man too long not to know this sort of thing. It was only a matter of time for Jazz would become involved and take matters into his own hands and Orion dreaded for that day.

In the interrogation room, the detective opened the folder in his hand and turned it to where Ward could look at it. It was an outgoing call list with the victim's cell phone number at the top. The man pointed to a particular number at the bottom of the page.

"We went through the victim's phone records and the last number she called before she was killed was yours." Preston leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. "Would you mind telling me what you two talked about?"

"She wanted to know about this gallery I was gonna be in next week. So, I gave her the address and I hung up."

"Where were you when she called you?"

"At my studio on Somerset."

"And how did you meet Jillian Monaghan?"

The man across from him sighed. "We met at an art gallery about a year ago," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Some of my work was being displayed and we started talking. She liked some of them so I gave her my studio's address in case she wanted to come by and see some more."

"Was there a relationship between the two of you?"

Ward shook his head. "No, we were just friends."

Preston was not convinced; there was something that this man was not telling and he was determined to find out what it was.

After spending several hours at the victim's penthouse apartment, Lacey and Hector finally arrived at the precinct with a box of the victim's personal items and placed it on the Latino's desk. Most of the evidence collected from the victim's apartment was now downstairs with forensics and being analyzed by Percy and the other techs. Lacey slipped off her leather jacket and placed it on Hector's chair. The two looked over to a slumped figure who sat across from Hector's desk.

Hector shook his head and walked over to the slumped figure. He tapped the man's shoulder and then shook him. "Hey, you okay Brendan?"

The man moaned and grumbled in response. Hector snorted and rolled his eyes. A very tired looking Brendan Underwood stirred before he looked up from his desk. The younger man rubbed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, stretching his arms over his head and cracking his back, running a hand through his blond hair.

"Yeah, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. Neighbor's dog wouldn't shut up," he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. He let out another long yawn and shook his head, hoping to wake himself up again. He then pointed to the two boxes on Hector's desk. "What's that?"

"Victim's personal belongings," replied Lacey. She pulled out the victim's address book and began to flip through some of the pages. "How did it go with the victim's manager? Did you get anything useful?"

Brendan grabbed his notepad and flipped through some of the pages. "He just said she was a hard worker and was always on time. She never called in sick, never took a personal day, or a vacation! Had a lot of regulars come in too," he paused for a moment. "Oh, she made really good Frappuccinos as well. And before you ask Espo, I got you that bagel you like so much. It's in the fridge so you better make sure no one has eaten it yet."

Hector's eyes instantly lit up. He hopped off his desk and raced off to the break room. Lacey chuckled and looked over to Brendan who was snickering and shaking his head at his partner's hasty retreat; he glanced up at Lacey.

"So, you like it here?" Brendan asked.

Lacey nodded. "I do," she said. "I have to admit Boston is very different from London."

"I'll take that as a good thing," replied Brendan. "You find anything at the vic's apartment?"

She narrowed her gaze to the Latino who was returning from the break room, silently munching on his bagel. Lacey jerked a thumb in his direction. "Your partner believes that she was a prostitute."

When Hector finished the remaining bite of his bagel, he licked his fingers and sat on his desk again. "She was a prostitute," he stated firmly. "How the hell do you think she could afford that apartment? And you saw her closet!"

"She could have had a rich boyfriend," Lacey suggested.

"Friends say she wasn't seeing anyone," Hector cut in.

"It would not be the first time a woman has lied about a man in their life." came the reply.

Brendan quirked a blond brow. "A prostitute?" Curious, the young detective scooted one of the boxes over and started rummaging through it. "What gave you that impression - oh, I see what you mean." His face went scarlet as he pulled out a lace pair of woman's lingerie that did not leave much room to the imagination. He cleared his throat and dropped it back in, hurriedly setting the box as far away as possible much to the amusement of his partner and the inspector. Both were snickering in spite of the young detective's scowl that was directed towards them.

"So, where's the captain?" Hector asked.

"Interrogation," Brendan answered, rubbing his eyes. He was desperate to burn the image of the underwear from his brain at this point. He grabbed the file on Darren Ward that lay on his desk and handed it to the Latino. "Novak brought in this guy a couple hours ago and made him sit there. According to his file, he's a real piece of work too. Got a lot couple of priors, including assault."

Hector opened the file and his eyes immediately went to the mug shot of the ex-convict. Wait a sec... His brown eyes widened in surprise. No way. He quickly closed the folder and dove into one of the boxes. He grabbed the victim's sketchpad from the evidence bag and then began to flip through the many filled pages. Lacey, who had finished looking through the victim's address book, quirked a brow to the frantic working detective.

"Everything alright, Espo?" she asked curiously.

He didn't answer her as he stopped on a page of the sketchbook. He differentiated his gaze between it and the mug shot in the manila folder. He muttered, "son of a bitch," under his breath before practically running out of the room much to the surprise of Lacey and Brendan. The two left behind exchanged glances before they jumped from their seats and chased after Hector who sprinted into interrogation, startling both Jazz and Orion. In the interrogation room, Preston was now leaning in his chair and had his arms folded his chest.

"I find that hard to believe, Mr. Ward. Miss Monaghan was a pretty girl and ten years younger than you," the detective said with a shrug of his shoulders. "You must have found her attractive."

Ward glared. "We were friends," he growled out. "Yeah, I'll admit that she was pretty but she had a boyfriend."

Hector shook his head and snatched onto the door handle. "Like hell, she did."

"Esposito!" The captain reached out to grab Hector by the arm but was too late. The other detective stormed into interrogation and slammed the door behind him. Preston, startled, whirled around to face Hector who was staring down at Ward with dark eyes. He threw the sketchpad onto the table, placed both hands on the table, and leaned forward.

"If she had a boyfriend, you mind tellin' us why the hell your face is nearly on every page her damn sketchbook?"

The interrogation room grew quiet; no one dared to breathe a word. In an instant, Ward's whole demeanor changed. His grey eyes locked onto the sketchpad where he saw his own unmistakable portrait staring back at him. He hesitantly reached out and touched the page, a faint smile coming to his lips. The man slowly drew his gaze up to the Latino detective who had stepped back from the table and Preston was now standing beside him.

"Now is the time to tell us the truth, Mr. Ward," Preston said. "I would hate to call your parole officer and tell him that you lied to the police."

Ward did not respond; his eyes dropped down onto the sketchpad again.

"They were together," Lacey whispered. She had been watching this whole time and said nothing at this point.

She turned to the captain and asked, "Sir, with your permission, I'd like to go in there and speak with Mr. Ward. I believe I can get him to talk to us about Miss Monaghan."

Orion looked past Lacey's shoulder and watched as Ward only lowered his head into his hands. Preston was stoic and Esposito was smug. The captain glanced down to the inspector and nodded. His gaze shifted to the mirror where he watched the woman entered the room. Hector and Preston both turned to the blonde inspector who walked over to the table. The two detectives exchanged similar glances before they too left the interrogation room and closed the door behind them.

Lacey stood there before she sat down in front of Ward and placed her hands on the table. After some time, the man across from her finally spoke. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice cracking. He was quick to clear his throat and then looked up at Lacey with cold grey eyes.

"My colleagues and I know why you were in her sketchpad," Lacey whispered. "You two were together, weren't you?"

There was a simple nod on Ward's part and the blonde inspector continued her questioning.

"Did you know that she was working as a prostitute?"

"She wasn't a prostitute," Ward growled.

Lacey nodded and placed a hand on her chest, "My apologies, Mr. Ward. Now, were you helping her pay the rent?"

Ward shook his head.

"Do you know who was?"

Ward lifted his head and looked directly at the inspector with pleading eyes. "You gotta understand that she was only doing this for the money. Not for the fancy clothes, the parties, or the men. Jill just wanted to get through school and become an artist. That's what I love - loved about her. She was always driven. Never wanted to quit."

The blonde inspector sighed and nodded. "She must have been a special girl, Mr. Ward," Lacey said.

Ward nodded and said, "She was."

Lacey leaned across the table. "I believe you, Mr. Ward. I know you would not want to hurt Miss Monaghan," she said. "I am sorry for your loss; you have my deepest sympathies." She stood up and walked out of the room, closing the door shut behind her.

All eyes looked to Lacey who had her back pressed against the door. Jazz grabbed Brendan by the arm and motioned for Preston to follow. The lead detective complied and walked out of interrogation with the two in tow. Orion turned off the video recording the interrogation and then turned to the inspector and his detective with his eyes narrowed and his arms folded over his chest.

"Would care to tell me what the hell that was about, Esposito?" he asked.

Hector sighed. "The vic was working as prostitute - "

"She wasn't a prostitute," Lacey said, pushing away from the door. "My guess is that she was most likely an escort. In London, we had several girls who worked as escorts to make money to help with uni."

"What makes you believe that inspector?" the captain asked.

Lacey continued, "Back in London, we came across several strings of girls working as escorts at different universities. All of them worked for the same woman, Madame Olivier, but she preferred to be called M'lady. Men could go online to search for their ideal girl and pay to go on dates with them. Sex was not always involved."

Hector huffed and pressed on. "Still, she was working for someone and I bet you anything Ward knows who it is. With his rap sheet? He's gotta know something. If you let me go in there - "

"Cut him loose," Orion said, shutting Hector down. "Have Ward give us a call if he thinks of something. Let's at least give him time to mourn his loss."

The Latino detective glanced over to the blonde inspector, nodded and wordlessly walked out of the room. Lacey looked through the mirror, her eyes locked onto Ward's slumped form. Even with the volume low, there was no doubt that the man was crying. The trembling hands and his shoulders shaking were just icing on the cake. The inspector sighed softly and shook her head as Orion walked up beside her.

"Go home, inspector. Get some rest," the captain said. Lacey opened her mouth but Orion cut her off. "Don't worry about him; I'll have a detective take him home."

"Alright, have a good night, captain." With that said, Lacey strode out of the room, leaving Orion to stand in silence and watch Ward through the mirror.

The blonde woman walked over to Hector's desk and grabbed her leather jacket before slipping it back on. She could feel eyes staring at her back as she stalked to the elevators and waited for the doors to close. When they finally did, she was taken down to the main floor and exited out of the building, taking the steps down to the street to hail a cab that did not take long at all. She gave the cabbie her address in Dorchester and sat back in the seat. They drove for some time before the cab pulled to a stop outside of the two-story home. Lacey quickly paid the driver for his services and climbed out of the cab. As she walked up the steps, she brought her keys out, unlocked the front door, walked inside and was greeted by her German Shepherd, Jethro. He began barking and yipping at her as the woman knelt down to ruffle his fur.

"I missed you too, Jethro," she murmured, running her fingers over his fur. "It's been a long day." Jethro licked his master's hand and bumped her under her chin.

She kissed him on the head and then walked into the living room. She sat down on her love seat where Jethro trotted over and laid down on his dog bed that was placed next to her. The woman glanced out of the window and drew her knees up to her chest. Not even bothering to go upstairs and change, she let out a yawn and curled up further in the love-seat before her eyes slid shut and fell fast asleep.

Feel free to leave a review or two! I'd love to hear from you all!

Note: As for the escort angle, I have read several articles that explain how some girls become "sugar babies" to help pay for college and maintain a social life.