Ralph Grant wasn't at the office, they discovered when they arrived. He'd called in sick that morning. Between them, they were able to sweet talk the man's address from one of the secretaries, but before they left, they decided to take the opportunity to talk with Craig Muldoon and his assistant, Lucy Flanders.

They approached the desk of Muldoon's secretary, who looked up from her computer when they stopped at her desk. She was a pretty woman, with dark hair and big, brown eyes. The name plate on her desk identified her as Sarah Jamison. "Hi, Sarah," Mike said with a smile, holding up his badge. "My name's Logan. This is my partner, Goren. We need to talk to Mr. Muldoon and Ms. Flanders for a few minutes."

"Do you have an appointment?" she asked.

Bobby shook his head. "No, we don't, but Douglas Pritchard didn't make an appointment with us when he got murdered. So it all evens out in the end."

Her big eyes got even bigger when she realized they were investigating the murder that had rocked their tidy little world. "Hold on for just a minute," she said as she picked up the phone and pressed a button, waiting for an answer. "Craig? Two detectives are here to speak with you and Lucy about Doug's murder."

She nodded as though he could hear her on the other end. "Okay,"

She replaced the receiver and looked back at the two men. "He'll be right out, detectives."

"Thank you," Bobby answered with a smile.

She returned his smile before turning back to her computer. The two men stepped away from the desk to wait for Muldoon. "We're on a roll," Mike said with a grin.

"A wedding band doesn't mean we can't be charming," Bobby replied, but he smiled, too.

It was reassuring to Bobby, after everything he'd been through recently and considering the tenuous state of his health, that he could still manipulate women with his charm. He also appreciated that Sarah glanced up at them every few seconds. The look on her face was curious and flirty. He smiled at her again, and her cheeks flushed a little before she shifted her attention back to her work.

Mike nudged him. "Quit making eyes at the secretary," he teased. "Here comes Muldoon."

Craig Muldoon was an average man in every sense of the word, except for the expensive suit and shoes he wore, the small gold hoop in his left ear and the Rolex that encircled his wrist as he extended his hand toward the detectives in greeting as he approached them.

"Detectives, I'm Craig Muldoon."

Mike took the lead, shaking the offered hand first. "Mike Logan," he said. "This is my partner, Robert Goren."

Muldoon shook Bobby's hand, then gestured toward his office. "Come in, please."

He followed the two detectives past Sarah's desk, through a doorway that led to a small foyer. Three doors opened into the small space. Lucy Flanders' name was on one door, Muldoon's was on another, and a brass plate on the third door identified it as a conference room.

They entered Muldoon's office, a large room with a huge oak desk on the far side by the windows. One wall was taken up entirely by built-in bookcases full of books and a fine leather couch sat against the wall opposite them. Two large leather chairs adorned the center of the room facing the desk. Standing beside the desk was a stunning woman with long dark hair gathered at the nape of her neck in a black ponytail holder. She wore a classy dark green dress that stopped just above her knees and matching heels. The dress clung to every curve of her body and the two detectives stared at her for a moment as Muldoon moved past them to take his place behind the desk. Their reaction to his assistant didn't pass his notice, and he smiled a little.

"This is my assistant, Lucy Flanders. Luce, Detectives Logan and Goren."

She smiled and held her hand out to shake theirs. Her eyes scanned each man, appraising them and then smiling appreciatively. "Pleased to meet you," she said.

Muldoon waved his hand at the two chairs in front of his desk as he sat down. "Please, have a seat, gentlemen. Sarah said you're here about Doug Pritchard's murder?"

The two men accepted his invitation to sit, and Mike continued to take the lead, focusing his attention on Muldoon. "Yes," he said. "Can you tell us where you were Tuesday at lunchtime, between 11:30 and 1:00?"

Muldoon grabbed an open appointment book from the side of the desk, where it looked like he and Lucy were conferring with it. "Tuesday...Tuesday...That was the 17th, right? Here we are...oh, that was the office Christmas party at Turtle Soup."

"Are you saying you were there?"

"Yes, I was."

"The entire time?"

He looked up at Lucy. "Ah, well...I may have stepped out for a bit, maybe..."

Bobby had been watching Lucy, who kept her own focus on her boss. He noticed her reaction to what he said, and he knew they were onto something, but he also didn't believe that Muldoon and Lucy were involved in Pritchard's murder. He flexed his left hand twice and said, "Uh, before either of you think about lying to us...we've spoken to others in the office who were at the party the entire time...people who have no motive to lie..."

Slowly, Muldoon nodded, turning his attention back to the detectives. Lucy moved closer to him as he admitted, "Lucy and I...stepped out...before the party was over."

"What time was that?" Mike asked.

"Just before noon, I think. But we did come back to the party."

Lucy agreed. "We were back around 12:30. Maybe a little sooner."

"Where did you go?" Bobby asked, his eyes straying back to Lucy, who was keenly aware of his interest.

"We stepped out for...an unplanned meeting," Muldoon admitted, drawing Bobby's attention back to him.

"A meeting..." Bobby said thoughtfully.

"Is that what we're calling it now?" Logan asked.

Lucy's face turned red but Muldoon remained stoic. Bobby rubbed the back of his neck, feigning discomfort. "Where, uh, where was your, uhm, tryst?"

"At my apartment in Murray Hill," Muldoon answered with a frown, but he didn't correct Bobby. "It's not that far from the restaurant."

Mike did a quick calculation in his head while Bobby continued to watch Lucy. "It's, what, about as far from Turtle Soup as the office?"

"Yes, but in the other direction. You can check with my doorman."

He wrote an address on the back of a business card and handed it to Mike. Bobby also did a calculation in his head. "You...uh, you're fast," he commented.

Lucy turned a darker shade of red and Muldoon scowled. "That's rather indelicate of you, detective."

"But the truth," Bobby answered.

Mike tucked the business card in his pocket. "Thank you for your time. We'll be in touch if we have any more questions."

He tapped Bobby's shoulder and they left the office. Once they were in the elevator, Mike gave his partner a nudge. "What was that about?"

"They're telling the truth."

"Yeah. She was mortified by your comment."

"That's how I know they were telling the truth."

"You seemed to be pretty taken by her," Mike snickered.

Bobby shook his head. "No. I wanted to make her uncomfortable."

"Well, you succeeded in spades."

Bobby smiled. "We need to find Ralph Grant. He has some questions to answer."

With a closed fist, Mike pounded on the apartment door. No answer. He pounded again, this time calling out. "Police! Open the door!"

A soft shuffling sounded from inside the apartment, followed by the rattle of chain and the sound of metal sliding against metal as the door was unlocked. They counted five locks, ranging from deadbolts to chains, being unlocked. The last lock that was undone was the one in the doorknob. The two detectives exchanged a look as they waited for the door to open. When the door swung open, they were both taken by surprise.

The woman who faced them stood on the opposite side of a walker and appeared to be on the downhill side of ninety. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"We, uhm, we're looking for Ralph Grant, ma'am," Bobby answered, a bit dazed by the unexpected turn of events.

"Ralphie," the old woman said with a smile. She motioned for them to enter, backed away from the door and began to make her shuffling way deeper into the apartment. "Ralphie is my grandson."

The two detectives followed her into her kitchen. "I've been expecting you," she continued. "Ralphie...he did something wrong, something he shouldn't have done."

"Do you know...what he did?" Mike asked.

She motioned to the chairs at the small table in the kitchen and set her walker beside the table. "Sit, boys. Ralphie went out for milk. He'll be right back, and he's going to make it right, what he did."

She shuffled even more slowly to the stove and lifted a tea kettle from the back burner. Mike stepped to her side and took the kettle from her. "Sit, please," he said. "I'll make the tea."

With a smile, she patted his cheek. "Such a nice boy."

Mike smiled and grasped her elbow, leading her to the table. She sat in the chair beside Bobby and Mike returned to the stove. She smiled at Bobby, who smiled back. "What's your name?" he asked, his tone soft.

"Agnes Grant, but they call me Aggy. Everyone calls me Aggy. I raised Ralphie. His daddy died when he was six which sent his poor momma into an early grave. He's a good boy, but he doesn't always make the smartest choices."

"Do you know what he did this time?"

"He hurt someone, and he thinks he's going to jail."

"I think he's right. He has to pay the price for what he's done."

Aggy looked pensive as the tea kettle whistled. "He died," she murmured. "The man Ralphie hurt. He died, didn't he?"

"I'm afraid so."

She looked up at the clock. "He'll be back any minute."

"He's not gonna be back until we leave," Mike said as he placed a cup in front of Aggy. "He'll see our car out there and decide he needs a few more things from the store."

Aggy slipped a teaspoon into her teacup and began to stir as she pulled the teabag string to dip the wet bag over and over. Bobby held up a cube of sugar, a query on his face. She nodded and he dropped the cube into her cup. The spoon clanked against the sides of the cup as she stirred faster.

Bobby reached out, took her tiny, weathered hand in his large one and gently patted it. "Aggy, you need to tell Ralph...tell him we're looking for him. And we're going to find him. My partner and I, that's what we do. We find people, and we're good at it. It would be in Ralph's best interest to turn himself in to us."

Mike sat on the chair opposite Bobby and gently rested his hand on her arm. "My partner's right, dear. We know you want what's best for your boy. He needs to come in and talk to us, to tell us what happened."

"Maybe we can help him," Bobby added.

Hope filled her wizened old face. "Do you think you can?"

"We can try. I can promise you that."

She slipped her hand from his, reached out and placed both of her ancient, withered hands on his cheeks. "Would you try?" she asked, almost a plea.

"Yes," he promised. "We will try."

"Then I will send him to you, first thing tomorrow morning. I want to make him a nice dinner tonight."

Bobby and Mike met glances, nodded in agreement. "First thing in the morning, then." Bobby scribbled something on the back of his business card and handed it to her. "1 Police Plaza, 11th floor, Major Case Squad."

"Won't you boys join us for dinner?"

"Thank you, but no thanks," Mike answered. "We've gotta get home to our own families."

Aggy sipped her tea. "Tell me about your families. Please."

The old woman was looking to connect with them, to make them real and good so she would know that her Ralphie was in good hands with them. Mike said, "I have a wife and two little boys."

"Their names?"

"My wife is Denise and my boys are Sean and Sam."

Her eyes shifted to Bobby. "And you?"

"My wife is Alex and we have four: Maggie, Harry, Tommy and Molly."

"A very busy household."

Bobby smiled. "Busy and happy."

Her old, dark eyes studied him, and he felt like she was looking deep into him, into his soul. "But there is sorrow on the horizon...unless something changes. Be cautious, brave one. Very cautious. What you seek...will not be long in coming."

Bobby pulled back, away from her, a puzzled scowl on his face. "We, uhm, we'd better be going. We've taken enough of your time. You'll give Ralph our message?"

"I will. Thank you for visiting with me."

Saying good-bye, the two detectives took their leave of the old woman. As they stepped out onto the front stoop, Mike whistled the theme from the Twilight Zone. Bobby nudged him with a chuckle as they walked to the car. Once they were in the vehicle, Mike started the engine. "Think Ralphie will show up in the morning?"

"Would you say no to her?"

With a laugh, he shifted into drive and pulled away from the curb. "Good point. You still want to, uh, rendezvous with your wife?"

Bobby's mind switched gears and his body reacted to the suggestion. "I, uhm...yeah."

Mike grinned. "How 'bout I drop you off and then I'll go get the kids and bring them home? Call Alex and tell her to meet you."

Bobby nodded as he fished his phone out of his pocket. "I like that idea. Thanks, Mike."

Listening to the brief conversation between Bobby and Alex, Mike was suddenly filled with a deep sorrow. As Denise was growing stronger and coming back to him, Bobby was slipping away, and there was nothing he could do about it.