Chapter 18

Mike flipped on the light switch, then plopped his exhausted body down on his unmade bed. He needed to wash his sheets anyway, so although it went against his personal preferences, he hadn't taken the time to make up his bed before heading out early this morning. Now it was almost five o'clock in the afternoon and resting his sweaty body on the cool sheets felt soothing.

He had spent his day off working to help his landlady repaint a recently vacated apartment. She was always grateful for his help, exchanging his labor for rent. It was a good arrangement that had allowed him to accumulate a nice savings account, more than most firemen were able to save over a few years. Being a middle-aged single woman, she was perfectly capable of doing many things herself and preferred hiring out her tenants whenever possible. It seemed to give them an appreciation for the apartment complex, making them less likely to cause damage to their units, and she trusted the ones she chose to work for her - more than she trusted some contractors.

The day had also given him the opportunity to discuss Lexi's situation with his landlady. Mike grimaced, scrubbing his face with his hand, feeling the stubble along his jawline and chin. He hadn't bothered to shave before going to paint. There didn't seem to be a reason to waste time on the cumbersome task when he was only going to get paint spatter on himself. He thought about the conversation between him and his landlady regarding Lexi and felt a sense of warmth spread through his chest. Ms. Higginbottom was one of the most caring women he had ever met - both understanding and forgiving. She had always been quick to offer someone a hand up and Lexi was no different, although he had not told her all of Lexi's past. It didn't seem relevant. Now, he hoped he hadn't made a mistake. He didn't want anything damaging the current arrangement he had with Ms. Higginbottom.

He pulled himself into a sitting position and reached for the phone on his nightstand. Dialing the familiar number, he cleared his throat anticipating an answer.

"He-hello? I mean, uh, Lopez rez…rezz'dence."

Mike felt his cheeks grow warm as he tried not to laugh at the little boy who was trying so hard to act older than his five years. "Hey there, Antonio. You're learning to answer the phone, huh?"

"Oh, hi Mister Mike! My grandma told me what to say, but I kind o' messed it up. I'm tryin' real hard though. Did I do good?"

Mike chuckled at the precocious little boy who was trying to impress him. It was obvious that the little tyke wanted and needed Mike's approval. "Yes, you certainly did, Ant. I thought I was talking to a ten-year-old," the engineer said, his voice sounding much more animated because he was conversing with a child. And Antonio was a very special little boy in the eyes of Mike Stoker.

The excited gibberish of the child made Mike laugh out loud. He listened patiently as Antonio loudly whispered to Maria.

"Grandma, Mr. Mike said I sounded old!"

Mike was still laughing when Maria took the telephone away from her grandson.

"Hello, Michael?"

"Yes, ma'am. How are you today?"

Maria huffed into the phone. "Well, trying to teach telephone etiquette to Antonio, and we're making progress, I think," she laughed.

"Yes, ma'am; I'd say you are. Is Lexi available?"

Maria bit her lower lip, unsure of how much she should share with Mike. "No, she's, uh, she's out with Marco and Beverly. She should be back soon though. Should I have her call you?"

Mike rubbed his forehead. He was planning to take a long shower, grab a bite to eat, then relax with a cold beer and an old western movie. "Uh, yea, yes ma'am; that'd be great. Thank you. Oh, and tell Antonio to keep up the good work," he said, his voice light.

"I'll do that. Thank you, Michael. Goodbye."

"Bye."

Mike hung up the phone, then pushed himself off the bed. He was a strong man, but he felt the overexertion in his arms. He had been painting walls, his arms being raised over his head for most of the day. Now he needed to release the tension. As he walked towards his bathroom, he remembered how Lexi had given him massages, her fingers magically working out the knots in his muscles. He stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to loosen up the tightness, his mind drifting back to the days when he and Lexi were in a loving relationship. He closed his eyes, reminiscing until the water became too cool to be comfortable.

Using a towel to cover his nakedness, he exited the bathroom and began stripping the dirty sheets from his bed. He tossed them into his washing machine, then returned to dress and put clean linens on his bed.

A short time later, he made his way to his kitchen, barefoot and wearing only a pair of boxers and a tee shirt, and quickly made a couple of sandwiches. He stood at the kitchen counter, devouring the food and hydrating with multiple glasses of water. He knew he would feel much worse in the morning if he was dehydrated, and being on-shift was sure to bring opportunities to lose even more fluids, so he had to rehydrate tonight.

After the third glass of water, he washed the few dishes he had used, grabbed a bottle of beer out of the refrigerator and headed for his recliner. He stopped along the way to turn on his television to a channel that played old black and white cowboy movies. Finally, he released the lever on the recliner to lift his feet, and soon the only sounds in the apartment were the shots being fired on the television and the soft snores of an exhausted engineer.

E!

Outside a lawyer's office, Lexi opened the car door and slipped inside. She felt the backs of her eyes beginning to burn. She had just signed a document that, when executed, would remove Antonio from her care and her life forever. And it wasn't just Antonio she would be losing; she would probably never see the rest of her family again, either. She coughed into her fist, feeling the same emotions she had felt over five years ago. The document she had signed would finalize the process she had started the night she had laid her newborn son on her mother's front porch. She was giving Antonio a life that he could never have with her. It was what was best for him – it was the only choice she had at the time, and this was her only choice now.

"Sis? You okay?" Marco asked, seeing the haunted look on Lexi's face.

Lexi looked up, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror. She offered him a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Yea, of course. This is what I wanted to do. It was my idea, remember?" She relaxed the muscles in her face, softening her expression.

"And it doesn't mean a thing unless something happens to you," Beverly reminded, turning to cast a glance into the back seat. "Nothing has changed, except you have made your contingency plan legal in every way."

"I know. Thanks," the younger woman commented, looking out the window as Marco backed the car out of the parking space at the attorney's office. The rest of the ride home was made in complete silence.

By the time the trio made their way into the Lopez residence, Maria and Bri were busily working on dinner while Antonio sat at the kitchen table with a coloring book and crayons.

"So, you think I should call Samford and accept his job offer?"

Maria looked over at her houseguest. "I'm not telling you what you should do. You are welcome here as long as you want to stay with us. I really enjoy having you around, but I think this could be a wonderful opportunity that might lead to something more," the senior woman said, returning to the ground beef she was browning.

"Hmm," Bri commented, continuing to chop the onions and peppers. "I hadn't thought about that. Do you think I might be able to get a job in an old folks' home or something… If I do a good job for the Bennett's?" she added, passing the bowl of diced vegetables.

Maria chuckled, accepting the proffered bowl. She had been listening to the way the young woman talked about Samford for the last twenty minutes, and she had seen them talking to each other at Johnny's party. She knew that Samford was obviously interested in Bri and she couldn't have been happier for her daughter's friend.

"Old folk's home? You won't last long if you call it an old folks' home," Maria laughed, nudging Bri with her elbow. The topic of conversation had changed, but the mood was light, and Maria didn't want to change that. When she heard the front door close, she felt tension in her chest. Why was it that her daughter could change her mood just by walking into their house?

Lexi headed up the stairs, not feeling like talking to anyone. Marco and Beverly gave each other a knowing glance, then headed into the kitchen to give Maria an update. As they entered the kitchen, Maria could tell by the look on their faces that something was very wrong. Her heart began to beat in her throat. For the sake of her grandson, she didn't put her thoughts into words.

"Is she upstairs?" Bri asked.

Beverly confirmed with a simple nod.

Bri wiped her hands on a dishtowel. "I'll go talk to her."

"Tell her that Mike called. He wants her to call him back," Maria said, noticing that Antonio's head jerked up from his coloring book at the sound of Mike's name.

"And I answered the phone when he called, and he said I did it good and old," the little boy said proudly.

Bri heard the chuckles from the kitchen as she hurried from the room and briefly wondered what Antonio had said. She wanted to ask, but there was a much more pressing matter at the moment. She rushed up the stairs, forgetting to knock before she entered Lexi's bedroom. The look of shock on her friend's face nearly made Bri panic.

"I'm sorry."

Lexi slammed her diary closed, shoving it back into the drawer, but not before Bri caught a glimpse of the money that Lexi was obviously hiding there. Bri saw her friend's face turn pale as Lexi quickly began cramming jewelry into a trinket box.

"Lexi… What's going on?"

"No-nothing… Just taking a little inventory of what I own. Is that a crime or something?" she asked, knowing her comment was snarky.

"What the hell?" Bri questioned, catching a fleeting glimpse of a string of pearls going into the box that normally contained only her heirloom rosary.

"A gift from Michael, if you must know," Lexi spat out at her friend, returning the box to its place of safekeeping in the drawer.

"When?" Bri asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew that if Mike had given Lexi a pearl necklace, she would have been wearing it every day. She certainly would not be hiding such an expensive gift from her family.

"After the party," Lexi replied, the lie slipping calmly off her lips. "I went home with him. He gave me the necklace and then we… Well," she smirked, keeping the ruse going by deflecting Bri's attention from the jewelry in question. "I'm sure you can figure out how I thanked him."

Bri felt like she was going to vomit. She knew Lexi was lying, but she had no way of disputing the claim. "Good for you… He wants you to call him by the way. Maybe he wants a refund," she smarted off, then turned to walk away. The more she was around Lexi, the more she distrusted her.

As Bri walked back down the stairs, she thought about the verbal exchange. The longer she stayed in the Lopez home, the less she liked the woman she had called her best friend for years. Maybe Mama Lopez was right. Maybe taking the job at the Bennett home was the right thing to do. She had spent the last couple of days wavering back and forth, but this last conversation with Lexi had cemented her decision. After dinner, she would call Samford and officially accept the job.

E!

The ringing telephone jolted Mike from a deep slumber. He stumbled over the coffee table, momentarily forgetting that he was at home and not at the station. He picked up the receiver with his hand, rubbing his aching knee with his free hand.

"Ahem… Hello?"

"Mama said you called for me," Lexi said quickly, her heart racing with the hope that his landlady had agreed to allow her to clean apartments.

Mike rubbed one eye with the heel of his hand, struggling to become fully awake. "Oh, hi, Lexi."

"I'm sorry. I guess my greeting was a little abrupt," she apologized.

"Yea… a little," he joked, finally regaining all his faculties. He stifled a yawn. "I talked to my landlady today. She said you can clean apartments. She'll inform all the residents that you're available."

"Really?"

Mike rubbed the back of his neck trying to relieve the stiffness. "Yes, she wants you to come over and meet with her, go over some basic rules, and discuss pricing."

"What do you mean?"

Mike wanted to roll his eyes, but he realized that Lexi had never had a real job before. She knew nothing about contracts, or expectations other than the rules her pimp had put into place. "Just to go over how much you plan on charging and the fact that the residents have the right to decline the offer of housekeeping services…. She'll probably ask you to sign an agreement saying you won't take anything from the apartments and won't go into any apartment without the authorized consent of the resident… blah, blah, blah… You know, that kind of thing."

"You TOLD her that I used to be a hooker? Thanks a lot, Mike!"

Now Mike was completely awake. "Lexi! Calm down! No, I didn't say anything about it. This is the kind of thing everyone has to do, regardless of their past."

"Oh," she replied, realizing her mistake. She was so anxious that she was jumping to conclusions. "I'm sorry."

"Anyway," Mike continued. "Please call her and schedule an appointment to go over everything, alright?"

"Sure… I will… and thank you, Michael. I really mean it."

Mike felt his stubbly cheeks begin to warm. "You're welcome. I'm happy to help. Oh, and I'll be your first client, okay?"

Lexi felt the back of her throat begin to sting. Michael was one of the best men she had ever known. "Thank you. I appreciate it so much, Michael."

The conversation ended, and Lexi hung up the telephone. She returned to her room, closing and locking the door behind her. She didn't want Bri walking in on her again, but she also didn't want anyone to see that she was crying. She sat on her bed, leaning against the headrest, pulling a pillow against her abdomen, and wept. There was so much in life that she had missed. She had missed Antonio's first teeth, his first steps, his first words. Now it looked like her time with him might be cut short. At least she had taken the right steps to ensure his happiness for the future. She wiped her face, not caring about smearing her make-up. No one was going to see her. She hugged the pillow closer, wishing that things could have gone differently with Mike. She had never known a man who had treated her so respectfully since her father had died.

E!

Samford Bennett was just sitting down for a quiet dinner with his mother when their telephone rang.

"Bennett residence, Sam speaking."

"Hi, this is Bri. Um, is the job still available?"

Samford couldn't stop the smile from crossing his face. The last time he had spoken to Bri, he had assumed that she had definitely made up her mind, but now he wasn't so sure. "It is… are you saying you're interested?"

Bri took a deep breath. This was a big step, one she hoped she wouldn't regret. She looked across the hall at Lexi's closed door. She had made up her mind. She was through trying to renew her friendship with Lexi. She had learned that it takes two to maintain a friendship, but only one to destroy it. Lexi had certainly damaged their friendship, probably beyond repair, so this was a good time to get a fresh start.

"Yes, yes, I am definitely interested," she replied, her voice strong and confident.

"Oh, that's great," Samford replied, glancing at his mother and offering her a warm smile. "How soon can you start?"

Bri was tempted to ask him if he could come pick her up immediately, but then thought better of it. She wanted to have a degree of professionalism. After all, this was going to be her first honest job. "Well, I don't have a lot of things to pack up, so… How about this weekend?"

"Saturday morning?"

Bri bit her bottom lip. She almost felt as if someone else had taken over her voice. "Yes, that would be great. Can you pick me up? I don't know where you live and… I don't have my own transportation."

"Absolutely, I can be there around ten o'clock. Will that work?"

"Yes, I'll be ready and… Thank you, Samford. I promise to do the very best I can to make you and your mother happy."

Bri hung up the phone, returned it to the table in the hallway, and stood for a moment staring at Lexi's closed door. She thought she heard sniffling from inside the other woman's bedroom, but she pressed her lips into a thin line. Whatever was going on with Lexi was beyond Bri's ability to help. It was time for her to lookout for herself. She turned and slowly headed down the stairs. Now she had to let the rest of the Lopez family know about her plans.

E!

Mike meticulously packed his bag for his next shift. After zipping it closed and dropping it beside his front door for easy retrieval on his way out the following morning, he fished all the coins out of his front pocket and dropped them into the bowl in his foyer. Lexi was scheduled to begin cleaning apartments in the morning and he was going to be her first client. He dropped ten dollars into the bowl, their agreed upon place for him to leave her payment, then returned to his bedroom. After completing his bedtime routine, he slipped between the sheets, turned off the lamp, then lay staring at the darkened ceiling thinking about the money that Lexi said she needed.

He blew out his breath, puffing out his cheeks. He had much more than $300 in his savings account and was tempted to simply give it to her, but he knew better than to do something so foolish. She needed to earn the money by doing honest work and he hoped that the part-time housekeeping job might help her to not only pay whatever bills she had outstanding, but it might also help her regain something he knew she needed even more – she needed to regain her self-confidence by proving she was capable of working a job to meet her own needs. He had counted the coins in the bowl in his foyer knowing that she would probably help herself to a few of them. He decided that he wouldn't count them upon returning from his shift; he didn't want to confirm her thievery. Instead, he chose to consider the loss a tip. At least, that was how he was justifying it in his mind.

He finally closed his eyes whispering to himself. "Lexi… What the hell are you up to?"

E!

Captain Stanley paced back and forth in front of his assembled crew, impatiently waiting for his senior medic to finish putting on his uniform and join the rest of the crew. Finally, Roy exited the locker room and took his position beside his partner.

"Glad you could make it, DeSoto," the frustrated fire captain said curtly. "Now, we've got some unusually wet weather coming into the area later today and we all know how well our citizens drive in the rain."

A chorus of groans let him know his men understood what he meant. The shift was likely to be a busy one due to fender-benders and cars careening off the road while hydroplaning.

"So, let's get the chores done quickly and wait on the tones to drop. And let's be safe, men." He looked at his crew, his eyes lingering on his senior medic. The man's face showed that he had missed a few hours of sleep. He wondered if the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday was going to bring an extended visit from Joanne's mother. He fought the urge to smile at that thought. He would keep an eye on Roy just to make sure that everything was okay. As the captain of Station 51's A-shift, it was his job to ensure that his men were fit for duty; the citizens deserved it and the crew expected it from each other.

"Cap?" Chet questioned, his bushy eyebrows rising to emphasize his question.

Hank, confused at first, soon realized his mistake. "Oh, yea… Kelly – apparatus bay, Lopez – kitchen, Stoker – dorms, Gage – dayroom, and DeSoto – latrines."

As the men dispersed towards their assigned areas, the klaxon sounded. The resulting scurry looked like a well-choreographed dance as they never missed a step or even bumped into each other; each man turning away from his assignment and towards his respective seat in the emergency vehicles.

Johnny tightened his chinstrap, accepting the address slip as it was passed to him by his silent partner. He quickly considered the traffic at this hour and began directing Roy on the quickest route to the scene of the accident.

"The rain hasn't even started yet, and they're already running off the damn freeway," Roy groused, his eyes never leaving the road.

Johnny gritted his teeth, knowing better than to respond. If the first ten minutes of the shift was any indication, it was going to be a very long twenty-four hours.

Once on scene, Roy pulled the squad onto the shoulder of the highway while Mike positioned the engine at an angle to protect both the victims and the rescuers from passing traffic. Roy took the lead, assessing the driver of the only car involved in the accident.

The strong smell of alcohol billowed from the vehicle as soon as Roy popped the door open with a prybar.

"Sir, can you hear me?"

"Ugh."

"I'm Roy DeSoto. I'm a paramedic with the fire department," he said, his voice sounding hollow. "Can you tell me where you're hurt?"

"Uh, nu," the man moaned, trying to pull away from Roy as he assessed the man's pupillary response.

"Watcha got, Roy?" Johnny asked, setting up the biophone while Chet brought the rest of the medical equipment and Marco worked to disconnect the battery cables.

"Another drunk," the senior medic responded.

Johnny quirked his eyebrow in Roy's direction. They often destressed by complaining about how people got themselves into some weird predicaments, but he had never known his partner to speak so callously about an injured victim before the man had even been extricated. Again, he pressed his lips into a thin line, retrieved his green pen and note pad from his pocket for taking notes, and pinned the biophone handset between his ear and shoulder.

"Rampart, this is squad 51; how do you read?"

Roy heard Johnny making the hospital connection and began taking vitals. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Tu, two beers," came the slurred response.

Roy rolled his eyes. It never failed to amaze him that every drunk driver never consumed more than two beers before crashing his car.

"Smells like whiskey to me," Roy grumbled, removing his hand from the man's abdomen. "Johnny, BP is 160/84, pulse is 88, respiration rate is 20... Obvious smell of alcohol." He heard Johnny relaying the information while he began dressing the bleeding head injury above the victims left eye. "Looks like you'll be needing a few stitches, but I think you'll be okay."

"G-good," the man hiccupped. "Feelin' b-better a'ready."

"I'm surprised you're feeling anything at all," Roy mumbled, not realizing that Johnny had overheard him.

"He goin' to the hospital?" Vince asked, leaning his flattened palm against the roof of the car.

"Yea," Roy responded, cutting the officer an exasperated glance. "Going to need stitches. Will he be arrested?"

"Drunk driving?"

Roy nodded his affirmation. "Only two beers, Vince."

"Always," the officer replied, whipping out his pen and ticket book. "Kind of early to be drinking, don't you think?" Vince questioned the driver.

"Nah," the man replied, suddenly feeling emboldened by his lack of serious injury. "I'm on my way home from The Caravel."

This information perked Vince's ears. "You mean to tell me that you've been out drinking all night and you only had two beers?"

"Yep… I'm a cheap da-date," the victim chuckled. "Guess I fell asleep on my way home."

"More likely you passed out," Roy countered. "You smell like a vat. You're lucky you didn't kill yourself or some innocent person."

"Roy, ETA on the ambulance is four minutes," Johnny said, wishing it would arrive sooner. Roy was becoming more and more inappropriate with their victim and Johnny needed to talk to him about his behavior.

Vince pocketed his pen. "You ridin' in with him?" he asked the senior medic.

"Yea… as drunk as he is, he could aspirate or have a seizure on the way in," Roy grimaced.

"A'right," Vince replied. "I'll follow the ambulance and then haul him in after the doc stitches him up."

"You'll probably want a blood test for court," Roy added, watching as Vince nodded his head.

After the ambulance drove away with the patrol car following, Johnny began cleaning up the medical debris. He glanced into the passenger's floorboard of the crumpled car where he noticed a broken bottle of Jack Daniels, the stench of the spilled whiskey permeated the entire car. He glanced up at the departing ambulance and shook his head. This time, the victim might actually have been telling the truth.

"Cap, you need me here for clean-up?"

Hank glanced around the scene then waved his junior medic off. "We've got it. Go ahead and get Roy, then meet me in my office when you get back to the station."

Johnny felt a sense of dread following him like a shadow on the drive to Rampart. He knew that their superior had either noticed Roy's foul mood or had overheard his inappropriate behavior with their victim… Or both. What had started out as a possibly difficult shift had just been confirmed to be exactly that… Or worse.

E!

Dixie McCall sat perched on the edge of her stool behind the nurses' station, staring at the door of treatment room 2. One of her favorite paramedics had just come in with a victim of a single motor vehicle accident, and Roy DeSoto was in a very rare foul mood. He had been curt with her when she had directed him into the treatment room, and that did not sit well with the head nurse. She was determined to discuss his attitude with him as soon as he walked out of the room, which was why she was sitting at the nurses' station sipping her morning coffee rather than enjoying her break in the staff lounge. The familiar shuffle of boots coming down the hallway urged her to shift her blue eyes away from the treatment room door.

"Hey, Tiger."

"Mornin', Dix," Johnny mumbled, helping himself to the fresh pot of coffee behind the nurse.

Dixie recognized the sour face. She dropped her pen onto the metal file in front of her and spun around on her stool. "Alright… What's going on with my favorite paramedics?"

Johnny leaned his backside against the counter, crossed one arm over his chest and blew across his hot cup of coffee. "Nothin's goin' on with me but…" He paused, nodding his head in the direction of the open treatment room door, watching as his partner quickly walked past them and headed for the pay phones at the other end of the hall. "I think somethin's up with Roy and Joanne."

"No kidding," Dixie added, glaring her eyes at the back of the departing paramedic. "He was snappy with me when he came in."

"Yea… and snappy with our victim, too. We've got an appointment with Cap when we get back to the station."

"Uh-oh," Dixie muttered. Her opportunity for an apology from Roy seemed to have disappeared for the moment, but another thought came to her mind. "Speaking of wives…" She hesitated, looking around to ensure that no one else would overhear what she was about to ask. The Rampart rumor mill was always active, mainly powered by her own nursing staff. "Is everything okay between Chet and Caroline?"

Johnny straightened up to his full height, his curiosity piqued. "As far as I know; why do you ask?" He knew that Dixie was not one to stir up trouble.

"Oh… Just something… strange I noticed at your party the other night?"

Johnny looked down the hallway, seeing Roy still talking on the telephone. "Spill it, Dix."

"Maybe I just misunderstood what I saw. It's probably nothing."

"Nu-uh," Johnny argued. "Your women's intuition is the best there is. What exactly did you see?"

"Well… When I went inside to get the champagne, I walked in on Chet with his back to me, obviously zipping up his pants, and Lexi was adjusting her blouse. It just seemed… odd."

Johnny knitted his eyebrows in response.

Dixie continued. "Chet didn't act strangely… well, no more than usual," she snickered. "But Lexi… I don't know… She seemed to make it a point to say that she had used the upstairs bathroom because Chet was occupying the guest bathroom."

"Like she was pointing out that they were not, um, occupying it together?"

Dixie immediately regretted saying anything. It sounded too much like nosey gossip to her, now that she heard herself say it. "I'm sorry, I'm sure it was completely innocent. Just forget I said anything," the nurse said, lightly tilting her head to let Johnny know that Roy was returning.

"Ready to go?"

Johnny set down his coffee cup. "Yea… Cap wants to see us in his office. See ya, Dix."

"Bye."

Roy and Johnny walked silently side by side down the hallway, making the left turn towards the emergency entrance in perfect stride. As they settled into the squad, Johnny couldn't contain his silence any longer.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"No," Roy responded, his eyes staring forward as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street.

"Oh… I see," Johnny mumbled. His years with Roy had made him fairly skillful at recognizing the older man's moods. "Guess your mother-in-law is coming for a visit during the holidays, huh?"

"Not this year… thankfully."

Johnny continued to stare at his partner, the wind from the open window whipping through his dark hair. He propped his elbow on the window ledge and ran a nervous finger beneath his nose. He considered mentioning Dixie's comments to Roy but thought better of it. It sounded like the man didn't need any more on his mind.

"Oh… Kids doin' okay?"

Roy cut his eyes at Johnny. He knew his partner knew him well enough to know that something was very wrong. Johnny was his best friend and Roy knew the younger man had a tendency to think he had done something wrong any time Roy was in a foul mood. He knew that Johnny's questions were more a process of elimination – and it was obvious that Johnny was trying to ensure that Roy wasn't mad at him. He huffed in exasperation.

"Jo and I had a big fight this morning."

"Ah, man… sorry. Anything I can do to help?"

Roy thought about the argument that had ensued when Johnny tried to give Joanne Mike's spaghetti recipe. "Hell, no… not again."

Roy saw Johnny's shoulders drop and knew that he had offended his friend… again. "Johnny… I'm sorry; I didn't mean it like that."

Johnny remained silent, unsure of how to respond.

Roy slowed down and pulled into the parking lot of a vacant building. He shifted into park, then turned to face his partner. "Look… Joanne was going through her closet this morning, picking out what she wanted to wear to Marco and Beverly's wedding. She found the dress she wanted to wear but when she opened the bottom drawer of her jewelry box to see how the dress would look with her grandmother's pearls… they were gone."

"Gone?"

"Yea… gone. The drawer was empty. Johnny, she only wears those pearls on special occasions like weddings or… holidays… and they're heirloom pearls… the necklace and matching earrings. We both accused Jennifer of playing with them, which ended up with Jennifer crying. I really don't think Jen lost them. But… what happened to them? I know Joanne didn't misplace them because they mean too much to her. She last wore them when we went out to dinner for our anniversary and I specifically remember her taking them off and putting them back in the jewelry box."

"You can remember that?"

"It was a special night, Johnny… if you must know… I removed them, okay?" Roy answered, raising his eyebrows in a knowing look. He hoped he didn't need to spell it out in detail.

"Ohh, I see… then… Did YOU misplace them?" Johnny asked, innocently.

Roy shifted the squad back into drive. "That comment is exactly what led to our argument!"

"Oh."

"Anyway, no, I didn't misplace them. And I just called her back to see if she'd found them and she hasn't."

"Man, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yea, me too. Even if I could afford to replace them… which I can't on my salary… it just wouldn't be the same because they're the only thing she inherited from her grandmother."

"Let me guess, she's mad at you and is at home crying… Jennifer is mad at both of you and is probably at school pouting… and… And the pearls are still missing."

"You got it… and now I guess I've done something wrong that's got Cap pissed off, so this is turning into a really swell day."

"Hmmm, well… you were kind o' rude to our victim back there." Johnny saw the daggers shooting from Roy's eyes. He held his hands up in surrender. "Look, I didn't say anything to Cap, but I think maybe he heard you."

"The guy was drunk and wrecked his car! He could've killed himself or someone else… Hell, we could've died trying to save his sorry ass!"

"ROY!" Johnny yelled, placing both hands on the dash.

Roy's attention quickly returned to the street where he saw the stop sign. He somehow managed to stop the vehicle just in time, leaving both of them with elevated heart rates and breathing hard.

"Damn," the senior man cursed softly.

"Yea…. Want me to drive the rest of the way?"

Roy shook his head, slipping his foot off the break. "I'm okay… I'm sorry, Johnny. I shouldn't have taken it out on you… or the victim, I guess."

"No, you shouldn't've… but we're good. I don't know about Cap, though."

"Yea," was all Roy said as he pulled to a stop in front of the station and backed the squad into place in the apparatus bay, rolling his eyes when Chet tried to direct him into place. "Does he really think I need his help."

"That's just Chet," Johnny replied, trying to lighten the mood, but realizing it wasn't working. The only thing could help right now was to find Joanne's pearls… soon.

The two men got out of the squad and headed straight to the captain's office. Hank looked up, motioning for them to have a seat, and shut the door. The captain leaned back in his chair, looking at his two medics as they took seats. After a moment of awkward silence, he propped an elbow on his desk.

"What happened back at the scene?"

Johnny looked at Roy, while Roy stared at the floor. Neither man spoke.

Hank realized that he had to get straight to the point. "Roy? How's our victim?"

"Doc says he'll be fine. Just needs a few stitches… and…" He hesitated, glancing at Johnny, regretting that he hadn't updated his partner before now. "And doc doesn't think he was over the legal limit."

Johnny's eyes widened. Hank shifted in his seat.

"So, he may not have deserved the harsh response he received from his rescuers, then… am I right?"

Johnny felt his defenses rising, but it was Roy who spoke on his behalf.

"It wasn't Johnny, Cap… It was just me."

Hank already knew the truth, and he was glad to see Roy admitting it, too. "Okay," he responded, looking over at his junior medic. "John, you're excused."

"Yes, sir."

Johnny left the captain's office, worried about his partner, but he hadn't had a chance to do his chores for the shift, so he went ahead to the dayroom and began straightening it up.

Inside his office, Hank continued. "Roy… I need an explanation."

E!

Chet, who had already finished mopping the apparatus bay, followed Johnny into the dayroom. "Gage… what'd you two do?"

Johnny, broom in hand, rolled his eyes as he spun around to face his nemesis. He had already opened his mouth when suddenly Dixie's comments came back to him. He closed his gaping mouth as another thought crossed his mind. He knew Chet would never intentionally do anything to jeopardize his relationship with Caroline; he simply loved her too much. But hadn't Dixie said that Lexi was adjusting her blouse while saying that she had used the DeSotos' master bathroom? Johnny knew the DeSoto residence as well as he knew his own. The master bath was inside the master bedroom which meant that Lexi would have gone through the bedroom to use it. Joanne's dresser was beside the bathroom, and her jewelry box was on the corner, right beside the door. Was it possible that Lexi had stolen Joanne's priceless pearls?

"Hey… Earth to Gage?" the Irishman yelled.

"Huh?"

"I asked… What did you two do?" Chet repeated, pointing towards Captain Stanley's office.

"I didn't do anything, but…" Johnny walked closer to Chet to be sure no one overheard him. "Roy and Jo had a little disagreement this morning, and… I think I may know how to resolve it."

"Not another Stoker recipe, I hope."

The paramedic rolled his eyes. "Oh, ha-ha!" Johnny responded, opening the side door. He looked back at Chet and jerked his head.

Chet understood the signal and walked over to the place where Johnny stood. The two stepped outside into the station driveway, Johnny still holding the cleaning tools. He looked at Chet with a seriousness the lineman hadn't seen in a while.

"Chet, I need to ask a very serious question," the medic whispered.

Chet crossed his arms over his chest. "Okay, shoot."

"At the party, when you went inside to take a shower, was Lexi in the house with you?"

Chet rubbed his chin, not liking what his shiftmate was implying. "Look," the Irishman began, trying to hold back his temper. "If you think that I-"

"Hell no, Chet. That's not what I'm askin'."

"Then what exactly are you asking?"

Johnny glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was in the kitchen. He didn't want anyone seeing him talking to Chet in such a curious place. "I'm just tryin' to figure out somethin', a'right?"

Chet could tell by his seriousness that Johnny wasn't questioning his fidelity to Caroline. "Yea, okay… When I was walking out of the bathroom, she was coming down the stairs. Said she had used the upstairs bathroom. Why?"

"Ah, man… That's what I thought." Johnny leaned against the closed door, looking up at the hazy Los Angeles morning sky. "Roy's situation involves missing jewelry," he said, shifting his gaze to the shorter man.

"And you think Lexi took it?"

Johnny exhaled loudly. "Yea…"

"Have you said anything to Marco?"

"I haven't even told Roy, yet. I just put all the pieces together, myself."

"Damn," Chet cursed, shifting his stance to mimic Johnny's. "I hope you're wrong, Gage. Marco's about to celebrate the most important day of his life and we're all supposed to be there."

"And if I'm right… our crew might never be the same."